


Healing

by sopaltenbass



Category: The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 02 AU, Warning: Strong Language, trigger warning: gunshot wounds, trigger warning: panic attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sopaltenbass/pseuds/sopaltenbass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stella remains in Northern Ireland after Spector and D. S. Tom Anderson are shot.  It is her duty as the S.I.O. on the case, but there's more to it than that.  She finds she cannot leave the young man who showed such bravery in the face of fire, and who now needs someone to help him through the long road to recovery.</p><p>Stella Gibson/Tom Anderson</p><p>Hurt/Comfort</p><p> </p><p>  <b>AU after Series 2</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella finds that her feelings for Tom go beyond that of a simple one night stand.

As soon as she saw Anderson handcuff himself to Spector, Stella had a funny feeling something was going to go wrong, but they were so close. _So close._ And it had been far too long in coming to abandon the plan now. They were there. They might never get the chance to discover the truth again.

When the shots rang out, Stella didn't quite believe what she saw. Spector falling to the ground. No. They needed him. He was the only one who knew the exact location. She was entirely unprepared for the twist of anguish in her gut when she saw Anderson fall as well, not dragged down by Spector, but because he too had been hit. She was stunned for a few moments, not quite able to process what her eyes were seeing.

Then she sprang into action. It seemed like such a blur when she thought back on it: calling for backup, pleading for an ambulance as quick as the PSNI and emergency services could manage, trying to keep pressure on both men's wounds at once. Stella knew she might be forced to make a choice if the ambulance didn't hurry, and she didn't know what choice that would be. Her brain waged battle with her heart. If she chose Spector, they could solve this case. If she chose Anderson, she would have him, and they could be together, no, _work_ together to put together the pieces of the puzzle they did have. It would be unwise for them to _be_ together. It was why Stella had been so against the proposed liaison that Spector had witnessed while hiding in her hotel room closet. But while Stella knew this, she didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to care. But she did.

All she wanted was both of them safe, and when, after what seemed like an eternity, the sirens of the ambulances broke through the haze of shock and they were both loaded and taken to hospital, Stella stood in the wood for a long time, staring at the dried and flaking blood on her hands, trying not to cry and failing.

A few days later, she saw him in hospital. Anderson--Tom--was barely lucid enough to recognize her, let alone have anything resembling a conversation, given the amount of drugs coursing through his system, but she sat at his bedside, held his hand, and made sure he knew she was there. She checked in on Spector as well. It infuriated Stella that his injuries seemed so much less life-threatening, but then again, the threat to him had been expected. The threat to Tom had not been. Stella was coming to realize that Tom was the kind of man who would put himself in harm's way if it meant saving another human life, and while that scared her, she also realized how rare that was in a detective sergeant. He deserved a promotion, when he was well enough to appreciate it.

It took Spector a week to recover enough from his wound to be returned to jail. It took Tom Anderson much longer. He faced surgery after surgery to repair the physical damage. Stella stayed in Northern Ireland. Quite apart from wanting to see this case through to the end, she had formed a bond she had never had before with the young man. She couldn't abandon him now, in his hour of greatest need.

She spent her evenings at his bedside, keeping him company as much as he did her. It helped to have something different to focus on, even if it wasn't entirely separate from the case. When Tom started physio-therapy, Stella was there. Afterwards as he lay in his bed, sweaty and clearly in pain, she tended to him, mopping his brow and letting him squeeze her hand until the worst of the pain subsided. And when he finally dropped off to sleep, Stella brushed away a tear she had not let fall when he could see, pressed her lips to his fingertips and left, feeling more broken than she ever had before.


	2. Finding Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella isn't sleeping. Tom notices.

Nights were hardest. Stella returned to her hotel after a long day at work followed by hours spent with Tom and fell into bed, exhausted. But sleep would not come. Sometimes she spent the whole night lying awake, staring at the ceiling, reliving that terrible day.

She got a new journal and began writing before turning out the light, but it didn't help much. Her dream journaling over the years had trained her to put her observations down on paper to try to make sense of them. This had been invaluable in her work as a detective, especially when it came to dealing with psychopathic serial murderers like Paul Spector, but psycho-analyzing herself was another matter entirely. Dreams were different. Dreams weren't reality. She could disconnect herself from them, see them as an outsider. Reality was far more complicated.

Motives were at once easier and more difficult to establish when they were her own. She knew the reasons she had given herself for her actions intellectually, but there could also be something deeper down she was ignoring, whether deliberately or not. She longed to have someone to talk to, someone who would be there for her as she was for Tom.

Though she tried to hide her personal troubles from him--he had enough to worry about without adding her baggage to the pile--Tom began to notice her distress.

One evening after Tom had returned from physio-therapy, sweaty and irritable as usual, he confronted her.

"What's going on, Stella?"

"What do you mean?"

"Every evening when I see you now, you look as if you've become a little more like a zombie."

"It's nothing," Stella tried to brush him off.

"Don't think you can pull that one over on me, Stella. We're both highly trained interrogators."

"And this isn't an interrogation room."

"No, it isn't. But you're my friend, Stella. I'm worried about you."

"You're worried about _me_? You're not the one who should be worrying. If anyone should feel worried or at fault, it's me."

"Don't do that, Stella. It wasn't your fault. This," he gestured to his midsection and upper leg, which were still bandaged from his most recent surgery, "isn't your fault."

"I should have--"

"No," Tom cut her off. "No, you shouldn't have done anything differently. It was me. I should have thought more carefully about the consequences when I cuffed myself to him."

"You were just doing your job," Stella protested.

"And you were doing yours. Is there anyone to blame for that?"

"Yes," Stella said immediately. She was glad to see the look of shock on Tom's face as she went on. "Jimmy is to blame. Jimmy and his damn gun and his vengeful attitude. He's what has brought us to this point, just as much as Spector has."

"You're not wrong there, but at the same time, I can't bring myself to blame him either. He was clearly out of his mind."

"He knew exactly what he was doing," Stella protested.

"In trying to shoot and kill Spector," Tom countered. "I don't think he ever meant to target anyone else."

"Jimmy's hurt plenty of other people."

"But Spector was his first intended target for murder," Tom said. "I was just collateral damage, and I can live with that. It's the risk we all take in this job. But enough about me. What's going on with you?" Stella looked away from Tom, ashamed by her own weakness in the presence of his strength. "Stella, I'm your friend. Please, tell me."

"It's getting to me, Tom. It's hitting too close to home."

"With me, you mean?"

"Yes. And no. There are things in my past. Things I don't talk about. Things I don't like to have consciously brought to the surface. Spector hits on every one of those things. He brings it all back to the forefront."

"So there's," Tom paused, clearly trying to find the most delicate way to phrase his next words, "there's trauma in your past. And Spector reminds you of that."

"Not only does he remind me of it by his demeanor. He knows about it. He took my dream journal months ago. He knows my secrets. He knows just how to manipulate me. And constantly having to guard against that is exhausting. I don't know how much longer I can do it alone."

"But you're not alone."

"Oh, but I am," Stella told him. "No one else knows, and everyone who has worked this case with me has ended up hurt in some way by it, even you. Even if I wanted to share my burdens with someone, it wouldn't feel right to do so when it just hurts people more." Stella massaged her temples, then put her face in her hands for a moment before looking over at Tom again. "Especially you."

"What do you, mean?" he asked her.

"You're going through so much, and I want to be here for you without giving you more to worry about."

"You being unhappy gives me plenty more to worry about," Tom said, reaching up to clasp her hand in his. "You can tell me anything, you know. I still want to be part of this case, Stella. Let me help you, just as you are helping me."

"How am I helping you?" she asked him, honestly perplexed by his statement.

"You're here. I never asked you to be, but you're here, and you've taken care of me. Let me take care of you, too."

"Tom," Stella said as she stood and turned to wrap her arms around him. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Tom said, and Stella thought she felt him place a careful, friendly kiss on her shoulder. "No go and get some rest."

"I'll do my best, if you promise to do the same."

"Sure thing," he replied.

As Stella left the ward that night, she looked back to see Tom watching her go. He gave her a little wave and she smiled back at him, thinking she had finally found someone she might share her whole self with.


	3. Laying Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DCI Burns informs Stella that Jimmy Tyler has been taken into custody, and she must be the one to interrogate him regarding the incident that injured Tom.

When Stella walked into PSNI headquarters the next morning, Jim Burns looked up from the file he was perusing.

"We got him, Stella. Jimmy Tyler's in custody."

"About time," Stella replied, rubbing her forehead. "Has anyone spoken to him yet?"

"I thought you might like the pleasure."

"I can't, Jim, not on my own. I know I'd say something I'd regret later. And it would probably jeopardize our case against him."

"But you do want in on this, don't you?"

"You know I do," Stella told him. "I just can't take the lead is all."

"There's little else to do, Stella. You're the only one here who isn't a criminal as well that was at the scene when it happened. It is only natural for you to be the one to question him," Stella gave Burns an exasperated look, "but I understand why you shouldn't be alone with him. I'll go with you."

"Thank you, sir," Stella huffed out.

It was just the three of them in the interrogation room later that morning. Stella took a deep, steadying breath, and began.

"Mr. Tyler, you've been placed under arrest for the attempted murder of Paul Spector and assault on an officer of the Northern Ireland Police. I'll remind you that you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your case if you do not mention now something you later rely on in court. Do you understand?"

Jimmy merely stared back at her, his expression unchanging and insolent.

"Do you know why you're here, Jimmy?" Stella tried again.

He smiled contemptively. "Because I tried to off that son of a whore, Spector. I would have managed it too, if that bloody police officer hadn't gotten in the way."

Stella swallowed hard, trying to beat down her outrage at his brazenness. "That bloody police officer, as you call him is still in hospital because of what you did," she said, managing to keep her tone calm and in control.

"Good," Jimmy spat. "I just wish Spector was with him."

"What made you want to kill Spector, Jimmy."

"He was doing my wife."

"Do you have any proof of that?"

"She didn't want me anymore. Said she never wanted to see me again. She went to a fuckin' safe house to get away from me. And all of this after she saw Spector alone at our house. Was I supposed to think there wasn't anything goin' on between them?"

"But you don't have any actual evidence of them being together."

"I just told you, he admitted to seein' her alone."

"Did you know Paul Spector before this."

"We'd seen him at hospital a few times. Grief counselin', he called it."

"Why did you need grief counseling?"

"My boy fuckin' died. Meningitis the doctors said it was. Liz wasn't takin' it so well. She was the one who made us go. It was probably just so she could see _him_."

"And it was Liz who invited Spector to your home?"

"Must have been, but he seemed awfully interested before. He tried to hide it, but I caught him sketchin' her during our sessions at hospital."

"So you decided to kill him."

"Only way to get rid of the fuckin' bastard. Only way to get Liz back."

"But you failed. Because of D. S. Anderson." Stella couldn't quite keep her voice from quivering at Tom's name.

Jimmy smiled again. "How bad is he hurt? Will he die?"

Stella felt rage boiling up in her gut.

"You sick, sadistic bast--!"

"Gibson," Burns said sternly. "Take a walk."

Stella fumed, but stood and left the interrogation room, slamming the door behind her. She walked a little ways down the hall, then slumped against the wall, covering her face with her hands and breathing hard. This was why she shouldn't have been doing this. As much as she wanted to keep emotions out of it, she just couldn't.

She finally had the person who was to blame for all of it, and she couldn't even interrogate him properly. She was too invested, too close to the case.

Her work was everything to her. It had been her escape. She didn't have to think about her own issues at work, but now, she did. Spector had changed that. Jimmy had changed that, and she could never go back.

All she wanted to do was to see Tom, to tell him they'd got Jimmy, to tell him the nightmare was almost over, but it wasn't for her. It was only just beginning.


	4. Roadblocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Stella come up against obstacles and try to solve them together.

When Stella arrived on the ward that night, she was surprised to find Tom's bed unoccupied.

"Excuse me," she asked a passing nurse. "Do you know where Mr. Anderson is?"

"Not to worry, mum. He took a little tumble during physio earlier." Stella gasped. "He's fine. They're just changing his dressings. He'll be back soon."

"I'll wait, if you don't mind," Stella replied.

"Not at all, mum."

Stella settled herself in the chair beside Tom's bed, pinching the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. She looked up again when she heard the clack of crutches on the laminate flooring.

Tom stopped short when he saw her, his face flushing scarlet in apparent embarrassment.

"Stella," he managed after a few moments.

"Tom," she said, locking eyes with him. He looked away almost immediately.

"I, er, I wasn't expecting you quite so soon, I, er, damn," he stammered.

"It's good to see you up and around on your own," Stella said, trying to cover the awkward moment.

"Yeah, well, I, er...would you mind, um, stepping into the hall for a moment? Just so I can get settled."

"Of course," she said, and got up to leave.

Stella went out into the hall, deliberately keeping her back to the window into the ward. She didn't want to make Tom uncomfortable, and he was obviously unsettled to have her see him in a position of weakness.

"You can come back in now, mum," the nurse said, poking her head around the door frame and giving Stella an understanding smile. Tom was back in bed, the covers arranged tactfully so his bandaged areas were covered.

"Sorry about that," Tom said, not quite meeting her eye. "It's just, I'm not very good on the crutches yet."

"It's all right," Stella reassured him. "How are you? I heard you fell earlier." Tom looked away.

"Just sore, is all," he muttered, so that she barely caught the words.

"It's all right, you know, not to be okay. I know how hard this is for you." Stella placed a tentative hand on his arm. He turned back to look at her, and she was surprised to see tears in his eyes.

"I just want to be out of here. I want to go home," he said very quietly, and in that moment he seemed like a little boy. Stella cradled his head in her arms and held him as he cried.

"It's all right, you're okay, you're all right, I'm here," she reassured him.

After several minutes, he quieted and pulled away from her. Wiping his eyes, he cleared his throat and said, "Any news on the case?"

Stella took a deep breath. "They arrested Jimmy Tyler this morning. I interrogated him this afternoon."

It was Tom's turn to take her arm and give it a comforting squeeze. "How'd that go?" he asked.

"Terribly," she admitted, chuckling humorlessly. "He has no remorse, Tom. He's just as much a psychopath as Spector."

"Wish I could have been there to confront him," Tom spat.

"It wouldn't do any good, Tom. Burns made me leave after only a few minutes. I couldn't handle it. I told him I wouldn't be able to, but who else is there? The only people on the scene were you, Spector, and myself."

"Still, I want him to see what he's done," he said, gesturing to his body where the covers concealed his bandages.

"That," Stella said now, an idea forming in her brain, "might not be such a bad idea."

"But I'm stuck in here, aren't I?"

"That doesn't mean we couldn't set up a camera. He could see and hear you, and you could see and hear him. It would be almost as if you were in the same room with him."

"I don't know. If you couldn't handle talking with him for long, I don't know how much better I'd do."

"You'd need someone with you, certainly. I'll speak to Burns, see what we can do."

"Thanks."

Stella smiled at him and said, "I should go, let you get some rest." She stood, but his voice brought her to a halt.

"Stella, wait."

"Yes, Tom?"

"Would you," he took a breath, trying to collect himself. "Would you mind staying with me tonight? It gets pretty lonely in here when the lights go out."

Stella sat down again, smiling at him, and taking his hand in hers. "I'd be happy to, Tom. I'll stay as long as you like."

"Thank you."

She raised their joined hands to her lips and kissed their intertwined fingers.

"I'll always be here for you," she told him.


	5. Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella makes arrangements for Tom to interrogate Jimmy. Tom is nearly ready to be released from hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's long. I got going and I couldn't stop until I finished the scene!

"Excuse me, mum."

Stella inhaled sharply as the nurse gently shook her awake. She ran her fingers through her hair and blinked the sleep from her eyes, trying to focus on the woman who stood before her.

"Yes? What is it?"

"I'm sorry, mum, but it's shift change, and according to hospital policy, visitors aren't allowed in with patients right now."

"Of course," Stella said, glancing toward Tom who had not stirred during this whispered conversation. He looked so peaceful as he slept, and she thought again how young he looked, how vulnerable. Her hand still clasped his, and she moved it to rest on top of his chest before releasing him.

"What's the time?" she asked the nurse.

"Half five, mum."

 _Good_ , Stella thought, _I have time to change before going back to work_.

"Thank you," she told the nurse. "Tell him I stayed as long as I could, and I'll be back around seven this evening."

"Of course, mum."

She stood then, and left the ward without looking back. Tom would be taken care of. And she had work to do.

When she arrived at work two hours later, she made straight for Burns' office. He was already there, as she knew he would be. She knocked quietly on his open door.

"Stella," he said, looking up from his computer screen. His tone left no doubt that he was remembering the incident from the previous day.

"Jim. I had an idea last night, regarding the interrogation of Jimmy Tyler. What if we set up a CCTV camera between him and To-- Anderson?" she said, catching herself on Tom's name.

Burns looked at her, considering. "Go on," he said.

"Well, you said I was the only one who could interrogate him, given I'm the only one who was on the scene. The only one _here_ , but Anderson was there too."

"Would he be up for that? Well enough, do you think?"

"I spoke with him about it last night. He's agreed to it already. Given someone is with him, as you were with me."

"It would have to be someone familiar with the case, of course, but it might be worth a try. Tyler might be more forthcoming if confronted by one of his victims."

"That's what we were thinking, sir. And it would give Anderson a chance to be involved with the case. He needs that, Jim. He's starting to get restless being cooped up in hospital so long."

"I'll sign off on it, if you find someone to monitor his end of the interrogation."

"Of course, Jim. I know just the person."

"Not you, Stella," Burns said, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

"You really think I'd suggest myself, knowing how utterly I failed at keeping my own composure yesterday? I'm not that cocky, Jim. I have someone else in mind."

"Good," he said. "How long do you think it would take to get set up?"

"No more than a day," she told him.

"Very good, I'll start making the arrangements here. Since they know you at hospital, you can handle things there, I'm assuming."

"I'll get right on it, sir."

"Stella?"

"Yes, Jim?"

"You're brilliant, you know. Don't let anyone ever try to convince you otherwise."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jim. I would have thought you'd know that by now," she said, smiling at him.

"Oh, just take the compliment, will you?" he said, shooing her away.

"Yes, sir."

Stella walked away, smiling despite herself. She was more than willing to take the compliment from Burns even if she wasn't willing to let things go further than compliments between them.

She walked straight down to the pathology lab, looking for the person she had in mind to monitor things on Tom's end. Reed was in the middle of a post-mortem, so Stella tapped on the glass in the anteroom to get her attention. Even through the surgical mask, she could tell that Reed was smiling when she saw her. Stella pushed the communicator button that would broadcast her voice to the surgical theatre.

"I have a proposition for you. How long until you're finished?"

"Twenty minutes, tops. Is this a personal proposition or a professional one?"

"Sort of both?" Stella said.

"I'm intrigued," Reed said. "Yeah, just give me twenty."

"No problem, I'll wait," Stella told her, then turned her back to the window. She wasn't squeamish about blood, but no matter how many murder scenes she'd been on, the sight of an open corpse still repulsed her.

Reed returned to the anteroom exactly twenty minutes later and picked up their conversation right where they had left off.

"So, what is this personal and professional proposition you have for me?"

"I need a favor," Stella told her.

"Go on," Reed said.

"They've arrested Jimmy Tyler, and our current thinking is that we could have Anderson do the interrogating over CCTV."

"Is he well enough for that?" Reed asked.

"Yes. He's all for it. But he would need someone to monitor his end. I tried to talk to Tyler yesterday and it's a good thing Burns was there. I didn't last more than five minutes."

"So, you're asking me to be Anderson's babysitter?"

"Sort of?" Stella said. "I can't do it. I'm too close to the case. You could do it because you know the specifics, but you're not personally affected by it."

"All right. When do we start?"

"Tomorrow, I hope. I still have to speak with the people at hospital about getting things set up, but I don't think that should take very long."

"And how long do you expect this to go?"

"That depends on Anderson, and Tyler," Stella said, being careful to use surnames only, "but I'd hope it wouldn't take more than two days."

"Perfect," Reed said. "My schedule's clear starting tomorrow, so I'm all yours."

"Thank you," Stella said.

"Anything I can do to help, just tell me," Reed replied.

"I appreciate it," Stella told her, and she left the anteroom. One more stop and she might actually have a workable plan.

Stella decided it was best if she called the ward to inquire about setting up the CCTV. She didn't want to seem overeager or surprise Tom by coming back well before she had said she would. Tom would have to be moved to a private room, but that wasn't a problem. She'd explain further when she came to see him that evening.

Stella was amazed that everything had gone so smoothly and that she was able to be back to reviewing the case against Paul Spector by lunchtime. She got so wrapped up in reviewing the evidence from the Sarah Kay murder scene that she was startled when Burns knocked on her door hours later.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Stella stretched before responding, "It's all right."

"Is everything in place for tomorrow?"

"Yes. Hospital is fine with us setting up for the interview, and I've found someone to monitor it on that end."

"Very good. Are you going to see him tonight?"

"I said I would, yes."

"You'd better finish up then. It's nearly half six."

"Is it really?" Stella said, squinting at her watch. "Must have lost track of time."

"I know you feel a responsibility to look after him, Stella, but you should get some rest too," Jim said, giving her a look of sadness tinged with regret.

"I will," she told him. "Thank you, sir."

When Stella arrived on the ward that night, the nurse on duty smiled at her.

"Mr. Anderson's been moved to a private room, mum."

"I'm aware," she told the nurse. "Would you mind directing me?" The nurse got up at once, walked her down the hall, and showed her to Tom's room. "Thank you," Stella said. The nurse simply smiled before returning to the open ward.

She looked around the room for a few moments before saying, "Nice."

"I suppose," said Tom, "if you like four close walls making you feel even more trapped." He was obviously in one of his more petulant moods.

"It's just for the interrogation, and soon afterwards you'll be able to go home, they tell me."

"The sooner the better," he said. "I'm going absolutely mad in here."

"It won't be much longer, I promise," she said. "You're doing really, really well."

"Doesn't feel like it." Stella noticed how still he was. He must have been in a lot of pain, she thought.

"How were things today?" she asked him, taking the seat at his bedside.

Before he could answer, Tom's surgeon poked his head around the door.

"Ah," he said. "I'll come back later, shall I?"

"No need, Dr. Kelly. This is Detective Superintendent Gibson. She's familiar with my case, and she's welcome to know anything you have to say to me." Stella did not miss that he used her full title.

"Very well then. It's looking like we can't find much more reason to keep you, Tom. Your wounds are healing. You're doing well in physio-therapy and we could continue that on an outpatient basis."

"Does that mean I can go home?" Tom said hopefully.

"I'd like to keep you until the week's out," Tom's face fell, "just to get you a little more confident on the crutches, see if we can't find a better way to manage your pain, and to make sure you have a support system at home. I know you don't like to admit it, but you're going to need help for the next little while."

"He'll have help. I'll make sure of that," Stella said, taking his hand.

"It looks like you've got things well in hand," Dr. Kelly said, smiling at them. "I'll leave you to catch up."

"Thank you, doctor," Stella said. Tom scowled at his surgeon's retreating back.

"Four more days of this," Tom gritted out once Dr. Kelly was out of earshot.

"That's not long, especially when you think about how long you've been here already."

"It may as well be an eternity."

"But just think, hopefully most of tomorrow you'll be interrogating Tyler. And once you're home, it's not so very far off that you'll be back to work."

"Stella, I'm far from healed," he admitted.

"I know that," she told him. "But you could have a desk job for awhile, just until you're back to full strength."

"Did you mean what you said, about me having help at home?"

"Yes."

"Would that be PSNI help, or are you personally volunteering?"

"We've come this far together. It would be shameful for me to abandon you now," Stella told him, looking him straight in the eye. He did not look away.

"I was hoping you'd say that," he said, his voice almost a whisper.

"I told you before," Stella said. "I won't leave you. I'll stay as long as you like, and that goes for when you're home too. So, tell me about today. How are you feeling?"

Tom's breathing had become shallow and he groped at his bedside for the button he needed to give himself a boost of pain medication. The hand Stella was holding tightened its grip, then relaxed a few moments later as the drugs took effect.

"Hurts like hell," he whispered. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and Stella found a cloth on the bedside table to wipe his brow.

"You're being so brave, so strong," she told him. "If it were me, I'd be screaming."

Tom chuckled. It was good to hear him laugh. "I'm not sure I believe that," he said.

"It's true," she told him. "Pain and I are not friends in the slightest. I'm amazed how well you've been handling it."

"You have way too much confidence in me," he said now, his eyelids falling closed.

"Rest," she whispered, but he was already asleep.


	6. Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom interrogates Jimmy Tyler. Stella and Tom make plans for when he is released from hospital.

Stella stood in the room adjacent to the interrogation room. She could see in through the two-way glass, but Tyler couldn't see her, and she was glad of that. She could also hear everything that was said, both by Jimmy and by Tom through the CCTV connection. The monitor showing Tom's face was facing away from her, toward Jimmy, but it didn't matter. It was good to hear his voice, confident and strong, sounding as if his pain was much improved this morning.

Stella had been concerned enough to track down Dr. Kelly before she left hospital the previous evening.

"Excuse me Dr. Kelly."

"Ms. Gibson, is it? How may I help you?"

"You said your team would be working on managing Tom's pain. He seemed fine to me before today, but tonight it seemed so much worse."

"Not to worry, Ms. Gibson. This happens when we start to wean patients off the stronger drugs. And Tom's been pushing himself a lot in physio therapy. I think he's really desperate to get out of here."

"You have no idea," Stella said, somewhat relieved. "He will be all right to handle a video interrogation tomorrow, though, won't he?"

"I'm sure he will, mum, especially if he's resting now."

"He fell asleep shortly after you left."

"Then he'll be fine." Dr. Kelly smiled sympathetically at Stella, and she left.

Now, she was glad that Tom had been able to rest, and he was doing brilliantly.

"You've been incarcerated before, Jimmy. What was the nature of your crime then?"

"You're a police officer. Shouldn't you know that already?" Jimmy spat back at him.

"As you can see, I'm hardly in a position to have access to your previous record. Please answer the question."

"I beat a man bloody. Made threats against him and his family. The filthy Taig." Stella winced at his language, but Tom seemed entirely unfazed by it. His tone was calm as he continued.

"But you didn't try to kill him?"

"That's exactly what I tried to do."

"Jimmy, stop talking," the court-appointed barrister said, leaning over to get into the frame of the camera. "My client doesn't have to answer anything that might incriminate him."

"I'm aware of that, sir. And in any case, the law prohibits re-prosecution in cases of assault." Tom was staying remarkably cool under pressure. "Mr. Tyler, you're on record as saying that you decided to kill Spector after he'd spent time with your wife alone. Did you plan to shoot him?"

"Jimmy," the barrister cautioned him, but Jimmy ignored him.

He leaned toward the camera and with a wide smile on his face, said, "Yes."

"If you hadn't been in imminent danger of capture immediately after you missed, would you have fired again?" Tom asked.

"Yes."

"You were arrested at your home in Belfast, Mr. Tyler, but the weapon was not found there after the search warrant was carried out. Where did you hide the gun, Jimmy?"

"Dropped it in the woods, when I ran for it, didn't I?" Jimmy responded.

"So, the gun is still there. A police officer could return to the scene and find it?"

"Yeah, unless someone else's been in there since."

"The area has been sealed off as a crime scene. Nobody else has been through there since, Jimmy."

"Then, yeah, you'll find my gun. I'm surprised you haven't found it already."

"The investigation's been put on hold for awhile, but I'll make sure someone goes out and retrieves it," Burns said. He was in the room with Tyler and his barrister.

"I think we're done here," Tom said now. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with me like this, Mr. Tyler."

"Like I had a fuckin' choice," Jimmy spat.

"There is always a choice, Jimmy, and this time, you did the right thing," Tom said. Stella could hardly believe that Tom was able to end things on such a positive note.

 Jimmy was led away to his cell, and Burns stood, addressing Tom. "Well done, Anderson."

"Thank you, sir."

Then the feed was disconnected and the equipment removed from the interrogation room. Stella braced herself against the wall in the adjoining room. He'd done it. He had kept his cool. He had managed himself. He had done what she could not.

"You were brilliant!" she exclaimed as she entered his room that evening. Tom grinned up at her.

"Such glowing praise from my superiors!" he said. "Burns is telling me well done. You're telling me I'm brilliant. You ought to be careful or all of this is going to go to my head."

"You should be very proud of yourself, Tom. Jimmy's not an easy man to interrogate. What's wrong?" she asked, as she saw him wince.

"It's nothing," he panted. "Just my leg. I'm sure it will be fine in a minute."

"Dr. Kelly told me you've been pushing yourself in physio. Doing your best to get out of here as quick as you can," Stella said, grasping his hand in both of hers and letting him squeeze until the worst of the pain was over. "But if you're not careful, Tom, you might make things worse."

"I know, and I am being careful. It's just, they've put me on different pain meds and they're not sure of the dosage just yet. What else did Dr. Kelly tell you?"

"Just that," Stella reassured him. "I'm trying not to be too nosy."

"I don't mind," he told her. "Someone should know. That's why I told him he could talk to you. I even filled out the records release form today. You can know everything."

"Tom, no, I don't need--"

"Stella, stop," Tom said, and she did. "Listen. I don't have anyone left. My father died when I was young, and my mum, she died of cancer last year. You're the only person who cares about me."

"Tom, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"You weren't to know, it's fine."

"So, you've made me your what? Your emergency contact? Your next of kin?"

"Something like that. I thought you'd be pleased."

"I am. Surprised, yes, but pleased all the same."

"I thought we had something, after that night we spent together at your hotel, but if I was wrong--"

Stella interrupted him with a kiss on his cheek. "You weren't wrong."

"You're still living there? Out of a suitcase?"

"Yes."

"But yesterday, you said I'd have help at home. I don't know, but the hospital might expect that to be 24-hour care..."

"I meant what I said, no matter what the time investment."

"Then it might be time for you to check out of that hotel, come Saturday. Stay with me at my flat."

"Tom, I don't know if that would be wise. We're still colleagues first, no matter how we may feel for each other. I don't want to ruin that."

"I wasn't suggesting...I have a spare room. We wouldn't have to...be...together. We could just be flat mates."

"It wouldn't be permanent, you know. I have a flat in England. My home is there."

"I know," Tom said, raising his hand to caress her cheek. "But for now, it would be enough."

"If you're sure."

"Stella," Tom said, drawing her face toward his and kissing her briefly. "I'm sure. I care a great deal about you."

"And I about you, Tom." They kissed again, this time lingering a bit before their lips parted.

Stella knew this was rocky territory. Things could go one of two ways, and both could potentially lead to disaster. But she didn't care. This was her choice and his. Neither of them was rushing the other. And Stella knew that whatever the outcome, she would be able to find a way out if she needed one. But right now, she didn't want to think about that. Right now all that mattered was that he wanted her, and she had him, and they would face whatever came together.


	7. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella meets Tom's neighbor while she's preparing for his return home.

The rest of the week seemed to fly by, and before Stella knew it, it was Friday evening. Tom would be released from hospital the very next day.

"Here's the key to my flat," Tom said, handing her a small brass key. I want you to go there tonight and get my car for tomorrow. The keys are in the top drawer in the entryway."

"Tom, if you think you're driving home, tomorrow..." Stella trailed off. Tom chuckled.

"No, I don't think I'll be driving for quite some time," he said, "but you should."

"I've been perfectly fine getting around by cab and on foot," she told him.

"Stella," Tom said, giving her a very serious look. "How practical do you think that's going to be when you've got me to take care of?" She frowned.

"I see what you mean. Okay, so I get your car. It's not some sports model that you would hate to see get even the tiniest scratch, is it?"

Tom chuckled. "No. About as far from it as you could get. She's a trusty old station wagon."

"She?" Stella asked him, eyebrows raised. "Does 'she' have a name?"

Tom blushed slightly before muttering "Bridget." Stella grinned at him. "I'm a single guy, Stella. Of course I named my car! Or, well, I was single for a long time."

"I think it's cute, really," Stella told him. "Okay, so I'll bring your car tomorrow. Is there anything else you'd like from home?"

"I'll probably need a set of clothes to go home in, now that you mention it. Just pick out whatever you think would look best. I've got some track pants in the bottom drawer of my bureau that would probably be easiest with my leg in this state." He gestured to his right leg which lay outside the covers for once, wrapped in bandages from hip to knee. "Have they spoken with you regarding my care?"

"Yes," Stella told him. "I've got it all written down. Dressing changes morning and evening. Medication with each meal. And regular exercise."

"You've got it," Tom said. "Stella, are you sure about this? I mean, it's going to be a lot, on top of the case and everything."

"I'm sure, Tom. I want to take care of you. I need you to get well again so we can finish this case the way we started it. Together. Standing side by side."

"Okay," he said. "Just, tell me if it's too much, won't you? I don't want you to burn yourself out, and the hospital can provide people."

"Of course," she told him. "But I don't want you to have to do that. Dealing with strangers is difficult at the best of times, but when you don't feel quite yourself it's awful."

"You're too good to me," Tom said, gazing at her with unmasked affection.

"Nonsense," Stella said. "I'm just doing what is right, and what I promised I would. I'm going to take care of you, Tom."

"Thank you," he said.

She leaned down to kiss him, then said, "Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Can't wait," he called after her as she left the room and walked down the open ward. She smiled back at him and waved.

Stella went straight to the address Tom had given her for his flat. She held her breath as she tried the key in the lock, somehow afraid that it wouldn't work. But the lock slid back easily and she entered Tom's flat. She looked around. It was clean, but not oppressively so. She went into the kitchen area and took stock of what was there. Tom hadn't mentioned that they'd need food, but after over a month of being in hospital, Stella knew they would.

She explored down the main hall and found the spare room Tom had mentioned earlier in the week as well as what was clearly his room. She found a (thankfully empty) gym bag and packed a change of clothes, including the track pants he had mentioned. She was just debating over whether to take Tom's shaving kit along when there was a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Stella said, as she opened it to find a young woman, about Tom's age from the look of her, standing on the doorstep.

"Oh, sorry," the woman said. "I saw the light on and thought Tom must be home. I've been worried about him."

"And you are...?" Stella asked.

"Oh, sorry," the woman said again. "Mary O'Riley. I live next door."

"Detective Superintendent Gibson," Stella said, offering her hand to shake, which Mary did.

At her name, Mary clapped her other hand over her mouth and said. "Oh God. Has something happened to Tom? Is he all right?"

"He was shot in the leg," Stella told her, her tone flat, ready to gauge the other woman's response.

"Oh my God," Mary muttered, both hands at her temples now. "Will he be okay?"

"He's going to be fine, but he's been in hospital for about a month."

"That's where he's been. Oh God, I thought, I _knew_ he was in law enforcement and something like this could happen, but I never thought...Oh God."

"Were you... _are_ you close to Tom?" Stella asked her now.

Mary looked at her, confused for a moment, then realizing what Stella meant. "Oh. No. We're just neighbors. But we look after each other in this neighborhood. We're pretty friendly."

"I see," Stella said. "Well, Tom is going to be just fine. He's coming home tomorrow as a matter of fact. I'm just getting things ready for him here."

"Okay, well, thanks. I'll see you around, I suppose." Mary turned her back and walked away.

"Yes, I suppose," Stella said, more to herself than to Mary. Then she closed the door and made her way back to Tom's room to finish packing. Her mind was racing. What would people think if they knew she was moving in with Tom, however temporarily? Would they approve, or would they think it highly improper?

Stella went back to the entryway and found the keys to Bridget, then located the door to the carport. Bridget was, indeed, an old station wagon, just beginning to rust at the edges of the door. Sitting in the driver's seat, she held her breath again as she turned the key in the ignition. It had been a month, after all. Would the car start? The engine spluttered a few times, but then turned over, and Stella let out a sigh of relief. She drove the car out onto the street, then went back to lock up. She threw the gym bag with Tom's clothes into the backseat and drove to her hotel.

It was very late, but Stella decided to pack her things before turning in for the night. It had been a very eventful evening, and she knew her mind would not turn off for a long time in any case.

The next morning, when she checked out, the man at the front desk inquired if she had finished her business in Belfast.

"No," she told him. "I've just found other arrangements for the time being. Thank you."

The drive to the hospital had never seemed to take so long before. Stella knew it was just because she was eager to see Tom, eager to get him home, eager to have him to herself.

Tom beamed at her when she entered his room carrying his gym bag.

"Did you get her?"

"Yes, Tom. Bridget's here. And you have food at your flat, something you didn't think to mention yesterday."

"Oh, yeah, thanks."

"I met your neighbor Mary yesterday," Stella said, trying to sound off-hand.

"Mary? Oh she's great. You'll love her."

"And how do you two get along?"

"She's just a friend, Stella."

"Okay, because she seemed really...interested in what had happened to you."

"People keep track of each other in our neighborhood."

"That's what she said."

"Well, it's true. Don't be jealous, Stella. There's no need."

"How are they going to react to me? Being there all the time, taking care of you?"

"They'll be grateful, and they'll probably bake you about a gross of cookies."

"Lucky me," Stella said, the sarcasm thick in her voice.

"Don't be like that, Stella. I promise they're great people. You'll love them, once you get to know them. And they'll love you. They're just protective of me, is all. Ever since Mum died."

"You're sure that's all it is? Because Mary seemed like she might wish there was more between the two of you."

"She's married, Stella. She's got a kid. She's not about to come over and start snogging me the moment I get home."

"Okay, okay. Do you need a hand with that?" she said, seeing him pull out the track pants from the gym bag.

"I'll be fine," he told her. I'll just go in the lavatory to change. You didn't pack my shaving kit, did you?"

"No. I thought you might want to wait until you were home."

"Right. Well, I suppose the scruff will just have to wait then."

"I like it, but it does need a bit of a trim."

"You're telling me," he said, reaching for his crutches and swinging his bandaged leg over the side of the bed. He groaned as he stood, getting his balance before moving to the lavatory, his track pants over his shoulder.

"You're sure you don't need any help?" she asked him.

"Erm, actually, do you mind?"

"Not at all," she told him, and she helped him slide the elastic waist of the track pants over his bandaged leg and up onto his hips. The pants were baggy. He'd lost quite a bit of weight in hospital. "We'll need to start feeding you properly," she said, grinning at him as she pulled the drawstring tight and tied it at his waist.

"I hope you won't have a problem with that," he said.

"Not in the slightest," she told him. "Now, let's get you out of here."

Stella walked about a pace behind Tom as he shuffled toward the exit on his crutches. He was much better than he'd been when she'd first seen him use them, but she still worried he might fall.

Getting him in the car was another matter entirely. Bridget wasn't as low to the ground as she might have been, but it was still quite a ways down. Stella had never fully appreciated just what went into getting into a car until she had to help Tom settle in. But at last, he was in, and she was driving, and they were going home. Tom's smile widened as they got closer to his street.

At last, they were in front of his flat. Stella parked on the street and got out to help Tom to the door. He wobbled slightly on the steps, and she put a steadying hand on his back. Then they were inside, and Tom sighed.

"It's good to be home," he said. "Welcome, to my humble abode, Stella. I hope you'll like it here."

"I like any place, so long as you're there, Tom," she told him, and they kissed for a moment before continuing to Tom's room. She settled him on the bed, then turned to make her way to the spare room, saying, "If you need anything, just shout."

"Will do," he said, and he blew her a kiss as she left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll most likely be going to weekly updates on this story now. I go back to work tomorrow. Thank you so much for all the lovely comments on this story. I'm really enjoying writing it, and reading what you think of it gives me even more motivation to keep writing it.


	8. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom's neighbors stop by to celebrate his homecoming.

Stella unpacked. It felt strange to have a place that was her own, a place where she would be afforded privacy, as she hadn't been entirely in the hotel. It had been a long time, too long, since Stella had felt like she belonged somewhere. Certainly, she had never felt that way since she had come to Northern Ireland. She hung the last of her work suits in the wardrobe, then made her way back toward Tom's room, intending to ask him if he was hungry. She stopped in his doorway and simply looked at him.

He had dozed off, his head lolling to one side on his pillows. It seemed a shame to wake him now, but he needed to eat something. He had become nearly skin and bones in hospital. Stella sat on the edge of his bed, content for a moment to look at him as he slept, then kissed him.

"That's a pleasant way to wake up," he mumbled as he returned to consciousness.

"It's nearly one," she told him. You should eat something."

"Don't have much appetite, truth be told," he said.

"And you'll never get it back if you don't have at least a little bit of lunch," she chided.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing fancy, I'm afraid. A sandwich and some soup? There's little else right now, but it will be quick. I'll have to make a run to the shops to pick up some proper food."

"Alright then," Tom replied.

A little later, they sat together at Tom's small table tucking into bowls of tomato soup from the can and hastily thrown together sandwiches made with the last of Tom's meat and bread. Just as they finished, there was a knock on the door.

"Who could that be?" Stella wondered aloud. Tom shrugged.

Stella went to answer the door, Tom lagging behind as he got to his feet on his crutches. As soon as she opened the door, they were greeted with a chorus of "SURPRISE!" and "WELCOME HOME, TOM!" It was Mary O'Riley and what Stella assumed must be Tom's other neighbors from the area. Tom looked at them all, slightly bemused.

"Gosh, you lot. You'd have thought I'd died or something, from the looks of you."

"We almost thought you had, lad. Nary a word nor sign of you in almost a month. What were we supposed to think? It's a good thing Mary here stopped by yesterday and got the truth from your boss."

"She's not my boss, Ken."

"Your colleague then," the man, Ken, said now. "We've been almost out of our heads with worry for you, lad."

Tom blushed. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare anyone. Though to be honest, I don't think I've ever flirted so close with death before. Not something I'm keen to repeat."

The crowd pushed into the flat then, and Tom was deposited in the sitting room while his neighbors fawned over him and asked him all about his time in hospital. Stella retreated to the spare room, allowing them some time together. These people obviously cared a great deal for Tom, and it felt as if she were intruding on their celebration.

At the same time, Stella felt a little annoyed with them. If they had been so worried, why was it Tom hadn't had any visitors apart from herself in hospital? He himself had told her she was the only one who cared about him. Was it possible he had been wrong? Had he deliberately led her on just to make her feel special? She didn't think Tom would do that. He surely couldn't be that fickle. Yet, here they all were, and they didn't show signs of leaving any time soon.

After about an hour, Stella had had enough with Tom's well-meaning "friends". She went out into the sitting room and raised her voice above the chatter.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Tom needs his rest. I'm sure he'd like to catch up with each of you, but right now really isn't the best time." She caught Tom's eye, his expression slightly disapproving, but people were starting to take their leave now.

"Glad to have you back, Tom."

"See you around."

"They can't keep you down for long, Tom. Go get 'em."

"Take care, Tom. I'm sure you'll be back on your feet in no time."

"See you around, lad."

"Bye. Thanks, you lot, for coming 'round," Tom told them, as Stella ushered them all back out the door. "That was kind of them all, to stop by," he said as Stella came back into the sitting room, breathless and feeling entirely too stressed out than the situation warranted.

"Kind?" she said. "They just invaded your house and threw a party without even being asked!"

"That's the Irish, Stella. You wouldn't understand, with your English stiff-upper-lip propriety."

"My what?"

"You can try to pretend all you want, Stella, but you are undeniably English in your sensibilities."

"I'm sorry," Stella said, feeling entirely put out.

"Don't misunderstand me," Tom said now. "I love that about you, but you have to understand, that my people are different from yours."

"I suppose it's another thing, I'll 'get used to'," Stella said, quoting him from that morning.

"I expect you will," he said, grinning at her, then grimacing. "About time for my meds isn't it?"

"Yes, it is, and then you really ought to rest some more."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, accepting the tablets and the glass of water she brought over to him. He swallowed them and got up, wincing. Stella followed him back to his room, helped him change into pajamas, and tucked him into bed. She sat with him for awhile, running a thumb across the back of his hand.

"Do you think you'll like it here, Stella?" he asked her drowsily after a long time of silence between them.

"I told you, Tom. I like any place where you are."

"But, do you think you'll really like it here, with things being so different from what you're accustomed to?"

"I expect I'll learn to like it," she told him.

"That's not what I asked."

"But it's the only answer I have right now." Tom's eyelids were drooping. His medication would make him drowsy for awhile, until his doctors felt they could lower the dosage. "Sleep," she told him.

"Don't leave," he pleaded with her.

"I'll be right here, I promise. Sleep."

Tom closed his eyes and was soon breathing deeply. Stella held his hand for awhile before getting up to do the dishes. This was going to be harder than she had ever imagined.


	9. Hiding in Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella returns to work. Tom confronts her about concealing the nature of their relationship now.

Stella didn't really think about the fact that she would have to go to work and leave Tom alone for hours at a stretch, until the day came. Then she chided herself for not considering it from the very beginning. Both of them rose early that morning so Stella could change Tom's dressings before going into work for the day. Still, it felt like there would never be enough time, and she found herself dashing through the kitchen with only a few minutes to spare, a piece of dry toast hanging from her mouth as she put on her overcoat.

"I'll have my mobile on me all day, so call me if you need anything."

"I will," he reassured her.

"I'll try to be back around lunchtime for a bit to check up on you," she said, hurrying back to her room for her briefcase.

"It'll be fine," Tom told her. "I'll probably spend all day reading, to be honest." He grabbed her arm as she passed him, and pulled her down to kiss her cheek.

"I'm going to be late!" she fretted.

"Go on, then. Don't want them all to start gossiping about the two of us."

"I'll see you soon," she said. "Don't do anything foolish while I'm gone!"

"What, like take another bullet? After the last time, I don't think I'll be trying it again in a hurry, believe me."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said.

"Okay, okay, I promise I'll be good."

The morning seemed to drag on. Stella was trying to review the interrogation footage of Katie Bennedetto, but it was difficult, seeing Tom in his pre-shooting healthy glow. It made her all the more determined to get back to him. She kept glancing at the clock in the corner of her laptop screen, waiting for it to turn over to 12:00. Finally, when she glanced at it and saw 12:02, she shut the lid on the computer and made her way out of her office.

"I'm taking lunch," she said, ducking her head into Burns' office.

"You've never taken lunch before," he said, looking quite taken aback.

"There's something I need to check on," Stella said, trying to skirt around the truth. She was quite sure that Burns knew something was up.

"Alright, just don't let it hold you up too long. Tyler's gun's been recovered from the crime scene and we need to run some forensics on it. I think you should be there."

"Of course, sir."

As soon as she was out of the building, Stella practically ran to where Bridget was parked and tore back to Tom's flat. She burst through the door, and Tom looked up from his book, a surprised smile on his face.

"Where's the fire, Stella?"

She just stood there, catching her breath for a minute. Then she sat down beside Tom on the couch.

"I think Burns suspects something."

"Don't tell me you've been keeping this a secret!" Tom said. "I thought the whole department would know you've been looking after me."

"They know I'd been visiting you," she told him, "but I don't think they realize how far it's gone between us. They haven't asked, in any case, and I don't see the need to tell them before they absolutely need to know."

"Stella."

"Yes, Tom?"

"Are you...I don't know...are you embarrassed to be with me?"

"Not at all," she reassured him, taking his hand in hers.

"Ashamed, then. Do you think it would put other people off if they knew we were together?"

"I don't know what to think," she admitted. "I know it would probably be seen as me taking too much of an interest in something--somebody--who really shouldn't concern me. I'm meant to be here just to work this case. I certainly never intended to find someone like you. And having known Burns as I have for quite some time, I don't think he would have expected it of me. But that doesn't change the fact I could hardly stop thinking about you all morning."

"Really?" Tom asked.

"Well, it didn't help that I was reviewing your interrogation tapes with Katie," Stella admitted.

"I still can't believe you made me do that, you know."

"What do you mean, I made you do it? You took matters into your own hands quite adeptly. And you got her confession without upsetting the juvenile courts too much. You were brilliant."

"Yeah, maybe, but who was it who put me in that situation in the first place? 'A male, about the same age, of similar appearance'? Makes me wonder if you aren't harboring some deeply hidden, pent up affection for Spector himself."

"Tom," Stella said, turning to look him straight in the eye and grateful that he didn't look away when she did, "I like you for much more than your looks." There was a moment during which Tom just looked at her, communicating quite efficiently without words. Then Stella said, "Let's have some lunch."

She'd been to the shops the day before, picking up plenty of fresh produce as well as bread, eggs, milk, cheese, and some chicken and beef from the butcher's counter. Now, she tossed together a salad for the two of them to share. When she placed it in front of Tom, he wrinkled his nose.

"Rabbit food?"

"It's healthy," she said. "And quick. We'll have a proper 'meat and potatoes' type meal tonight."

"And this is how you're going to get me back to my old trim?"

"Oh, just eat your lunch," she told him, nudging him playfully in the shoulder. Tom winced and gasped in pain as he was forced to put most of his weight on his injured hip and upper leg. "Oh God, I'm so sorry," Stella said, immediately feeling terrible for what she had done.

"It's all right," Tom gasped now. "I'll be fine in a moment."

"I should have thought--"

"It's fine," he reassured her. "See? All better." Tom smiled at her, but Stella thought it looked forced.

They ate in silence, Stella berating herself for not having more to say, for having to apologize for her thoughtless action. Finally Tom spoke.

"How long do you intend to keep this a secret?"

"I told you already, I'm not keeping it a secret. So long as nobody asks, I don't see the need for them to know."

"That's still keeping a secret."

"Do you _want_ people to know about us?" Stella asked him now. "Do you want people to skirt around us, around me, awkwardly because of what happened and how it brought us together and how...how strange that might seem to them?"

"I didn't mean...I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, but if this, if I make you uncomfortable, maybe we shouldn't be doing this. Maybe you should go back to your hotel."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Tom? I'm not leaving you. If you want the entire department to know, I'll make a big announcement. But as we say in our line of work, right now I feel that information should be kept on a 'need to know' level. When you come back to work, then things will have to change, but for now, leave it as it is. Please."

"Don't suppose I have much choice in the matter, really. I just hate to think you might feel like you had to hide me away from everyone. It's not the end of the world, Stella, and it won't be the end of my career."

"But that's just it, Tom. No matter how things have changed in the police force, no matter how many women have been taken on as officers and detectives, we are still seen as women, as more emotionally open and vulnerable, as the lesser sex in a way, and this...it could mean the end of _my_ career if people found out and thought I was taking advantage of my position."

"But you're not. I'd tell them you're not."

"That would be a little difficult right now, though, wouldn't it? Please, just leave it, until you're back at work."

"Okay," he relented, "but you should know that I don't agree about keeping it under wraps and if someone asks you, or me, directly, we tell them. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"That's settled then," Tom said, snapping open the pill counter for his midday medication and swallowing the pills with a bit of water. He glanced at his watch. "Better hurry back if you don't want people to suspect anything."

Stella got up from the couch and took their plates over to the sink. "I'm sorry, Tom. Truly, I am. But I have a certain reputation to protect. I'm not ashamed of my feelings for you in any way. I promise you that. Just know that when the time is right, we'll be able to be open about us. I'll see you this evening." Stella left without looking back at Tom. When she got in the car, she sat there for a moment trying to collect herself. She didn't want to be so emotional about this, about him, but he wasn't making it very easy. She was disappointed with herself when she felt herself beginning to tear up.

_Come on now, Stella. Don't let him do that to you. You aren't the one in the wrong. Neither is he to be honest. It's the situation that is to blame. It's the stupid reality that you being older and him being younger could reflect poorly on you. It's the fact that you have fallen quite completely for him and don't want to lose him, but you know that you could in the blink of an eye. You nearly did. And it hurts._

Stella took a deep breath, wiped away the few tears she had let fall, and returned to work. She had a case to make.


	10. Laid Bare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella must reveal the truth of her relationship with Tom.

Burns caught Stella's eye as she walked back into the office, and motioned with his head that she was to join him in his office. Stella swallowed and went in.

"What is it, sir?"

"They've set a date for Tyler's hearing. It's Wednesday."

" _This_ Wednesday? As in, day after tomorrow?" Stella asked, surprised at how quickly things were moving along. "That was fast," she remarked.

"It has to be," Burns told her. "They want to move forward with Spector's case as quickly as possible, so they have to begin the process with Tyler as well. It's going to be a busy next few months for us."

"Yes sir."

"That means we need to fast track the forensics on Tyler's weapon. Meet me downstairs in the lab in ten."

"Of course."

Stella made her way back to her office, depositing her coat on the chair before going straight down to the forensics lab to get suited up. Ged Greene was putting on protective gear as well.

"Stella," he said in greeting.

"Ged, how's it going?"

"Well enough, ma'am. I just want to get going on this. It's time we had some answers in this case."

"Agreed. Ready?" Ged nodded at her, and the two of them entered the lab. Burns joined them moments later, a very serious expression on his face.

"Both of you were on the scene when the shots were fired. First, I need to know if you can confirm this was the weapon used, and not some decoy planted there later."

"Thought we'd sealed off the area," Ged said.

"We did, but that area is incredibly difficult to maintain 24-hour surveillance on," Burns told him. "It's possible someone could have gone in late at night and switched out the gun for a different weapon. Is this the gun that you saw Tyler use?" He looked at Stella.

"A small handgun, black, with no significant identifying features?" she said. "That's going to be difficult to visually identify with any certainty, sir, but yes, this gun does match that description."

They proceeded to examine the gun for fingerprints and for explosive residue. Stella's hands began to shake as she held the weapon close to examine the only prints on the gun, on the magazine where someone, presumably Jimmy, had loaded it.

"Alright, ma'am?" Ged asked her.

"It's just difficult, Ged. Being so near the thing that has changed at least two lives irrevocably."

"How's Anderson doing?" Ged said now.

"Remarkably well for having just come out of hospital."

"Must be hard for him, with no family left." This was getting a little too close to the truth for Stella, and she hoped Ged wouldn't ask, wouldn't make her say it, but then, "Who's looking after him, now that he's home?"

Stella swallowed hard before responding, "I am." She closed her eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"That's awfully kind of you," Ged said. "I saw how much you cared for him on the scene. Can't be easy for you to see him like this."

"No," she whispered.

Ged placed a hand on Stella's shoulder comfortingly.

"It'll be okay in the end, though, ma'am. You'll see."

"Thank you, Ged."

Stella glanced nervously over at Burns, who was very intently placing swabs from the investigation into plastic bags before bagging the gun itself. Stella had no doubt he had been paying very close attention to the conversation between herself and Ged, even if he wasn't letting on. The three of them went back into the changing room to discard their suits. Ged seemed to sense the tenseness in the room, and changed quickly, leaving Burns and Stella alone.

"You're staying with him aren't you?" Burns asked once Ged had left.

"Yes," Stella admitted, not looking at him.

"What's he offering that I did not?"

"Jim," Stella said. "We'd been down that road before. We both know how it ended. With Tom, it's different. He needs me."

"I need you, Stella."

"Oh," Stella said, feeling extremely annoyed and highly volatile, "alright then, show me your life-threatening GSW, your open heart, your loss of loved ones and lack of any family at all, and your difficulty with the most basic elements of self-care, and maybe then I'll realize that you need just as much help as Tom does right now. But we still know that we didn't work. Tom and I, we're a good match for each other. He cares, Jim. He doesn't think about only himself all the time. He wants the best for everyone. He worries about me just as much as I worry about him, and I'm going to take care of him because that's what he needs right now. I'm not forcing myself on him. He's not forcing himself on me. It is entirely different from what you did."

"Stella, I've told you, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight. But Anderson? Are you willing to take the risk of being with him? Just think what it could do to you professionally. And he'll probably be court ordered to appear for Jimmy's trial if it comes to that. Are you sure you can handle what being with him would mean then?"

"I've thought about the risks, Jim. And I'm willing to take them. I know what I stand to lose. But I know what I stand to gain as well, and frankly, I like the look of those odds." Burns stood between her and the door out of the changing room. "Now if you'll excuse me, there is work that needs to be done."

Stella was surprised when Burns immediately stepped aside, but realized that she must have made her position very clear. In any case, the secret was out now. Tom would be pleased.

"You got your wish," Stella said as she plopped down on the couch next to Tom that night.

"What?" he asked.

"You got your wish. This, _we_ are no longer a secret at work." Stella felt entirely put out that it hadn't even lasted a day.

"Well, you couldn't have expected to stay hidden for long," he told her. Then, because it seemed he just couldn't help himself, he asked, "Who was it?"

"Ged. And then Burns himself, which was incredibly awkward given our history."

Tom's lips twitched, as though he was trying not to frown at her words. "Well, it's better that it's out in the open, I think. Even if it makes things a little more complicated for you. I'm sorry I'm not there to help field the questions that are bound to come up."

"Well, hopefully it'll get buried under the load of work we've got to do. Jimmy's first court appearance is day after tomorrow."

"What?!" Tom exclaimed. "Why so soon?"

"So we can move the case against Spector along. Jimmy's tangled up in it now, and it'll be easier to have them both in the process at once. So, Jimmy's got to have his initial hearing sooner rather than later. I do worry though, because you're bound to be ordered to appear."

Tom did frown now. "Yes, I suppose I will be."

Stella laid her head on his shoulder. "How do you feel about it all?"

"Mixed feelings really," he told her. "On the one hand, he shot me and now I'm like this," Tom said, gesturing to his leg, "but on the other hand, I was never his intended target. I did this to myself as much as he did it to me."

"Would you have done anything differently, if you could go back and do it again?"

"No," Tom said decisively. "No, given the chance, I'd do exactly the same thing."

Stella kissed him. "I knew you'd say that. It's what I admire so much about you. Your selflessness, and your sacrifice."

Tom smiled, a little self-deprecatingly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," and she kissed him again before getting up to start preparing their supper.


	11. Obstacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella has to go to court, and Tom suffers a setback.

Before Stella knew it, it was Wednesday morning, and she was sitting down to a long day in court. She worried about Tom, having to be mostly on his own all day since she probably wouldn't be able to make it back for lunch, but he had reassured her repeatedly that everything would be fine. She wondered if he did it more to convince himself or her. It had been increasingly obvious to Stella that Tom was keeping something from her. Did he have doubts about his speed of recovery? Was he frustrated, being stuck at home? Was he worried about how soon he may have to appear before the court? Or was it something else entirely?

Stella also worried because, despite his best efforts to hide it, she could tell Tom was hurting.

She'd seen Mary O'Riley briefly that morning on her way out the door. Despite her earlier feelings that Tom's neighbors were a little _too_ friendly, Stella swallowed her pride, and asked her to keep an eye and ear out for anything unusual regarding Tom. Mary had hoisted her little girl a little higher onto her hip and told Stella she'd check in on him around midday.

Stella pulled out her mobile and set it to vibrate mode.

"All rise," came the call as the judge entered the court room, and the hearing began.

Jimmy was ordered to the defendant's chair, and Stella was glad of the fact she was wedged between Reed and Ged, both of whom now knew how difficult it was for Stella to keep calm in his presence. They would keep her in check.

The morning dragged on with inquiries being made as to Jimmy's motivation to attempt to murder Spector. The whole story about his encounters with Spector previously were relayed. For Stella, it felt like needless rehashing, but of course, it all had to be stated for the court record. When the court took a brief recess for lunch, Stella went out into the entryway and rang Tom's flat.

"How's it going?" he asked her.

"It's dreadfully dull," she told him. "You're lucky you don't have to be here today. What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Mary was 'round a little bit ago. She made sure I got lunch."

"Good," Stella said.

"Did you ask her to stop in?"

"What if I did? Would it be so out of character for me to want to make sure you're okay?"

"Oh no," Tom said now, "I'm just proud of you for actually letting someone else help."

"Thanks," Stella said, a little sarcastically.

"Come on, now," Tom said, "admit it, you've been trying to keep me all for yourself. I could see it from the day all my friends stopped by."

"Maybe..." she said.

"Court will resume in two minutes," came the call over the public address system.

"I have to go," Stella told him.

"It's fine," Tom said.

"See you tonight."

"Yeah."

Stella ended the call, schooled her expression back to seriousness, and reentered the court room.

The afternoon proceeded more or less as the morning had, and Stella was beginning to feel like there was little point to her being there at all, when her mobile buzzed in her pocket. There was only one person who would be calling her now. Stella felt dread settle in her stomach like a lead weight as all the blood drained from her face.

Seeing her stiffen, Reed looked over at her. "Everything alright?" she mouthed. Stella gave her a nearly imperceptible shake of the head in response, and Reed frowned. Stella clasped her hands in her lap, but couldn't quite keep them from shaking. Reed reached over and took one of Stella's hands in hers, squeezing comfortingly.

Stella couldn't keep herself from imagining the worst. She'd told Tom he could ring her any time, but he knew she wouldn't be able to answer today. He wouldn't be calling her if something wasn't seriously wrong. What had happened?

She wished the hearing would wrap up. She needed it to be over. She couldn't stand much more of this. Not knowing was awful.

Her mobile was buzzing again. It felt like an accusation to Stella. _You promised you'd be there, but now you're not. How can you just leave him like this? This is not how you want him to think of you, but how will he forgive this? How could he forget that when he needed you most, you abandoned him?_

 _But I'm not abandoning him_ , she argued with herself. _He'll understand._

 _You knew he was hurting, and you didn't do anything about it,_ came the accusatory part of her brain.

_What could I do? He wouldn't have listened to me if I'd suggested he ask for something stronger._

_You could have made sure that someone was with him all day today. If you really trusted Mary, or any of his friends, you would have organized people to be with him at all times._

Stella felt tears precariously close to the surface and prayed she'd be able to keep them back long enough to get out of the court room. She hadn't been listening to the hearing for quite some time now, being lost in her own internal argument with herself.

Her mobile buzzed again, an insistent reminder that she had missed calls and messages were waiting for her. Ged glanced over at Stella, and her distress must have been plain to see in her face because he gave her a very concerned look. Finally, the judge pronounced court in recess until the following morning, and Stella fled from the room.

Pulling out her mobile revealed three missed calls: two from Tom's number and one from a number she didn't recognize. There were also three voice mails. She punched the code into her phone to make them play and her throat immediately tightened at what she heard. "First message," the robotic voice mail announced, and then Tom's voice, pleading and clearly in pain.

"Stella, Stella please. I know you're in court, but I need," his voice cut out for a moment as he drew a ragged breath. "I need help. Something's wrong." He groaned in pain, and Stella felt herself going weak in the knees. Ged had come out of the courtroom just behind Stella and was there to catch her as she nearly fell to the ground. He guided her to a bench as the first message closed. The next message began. This one was also from Tom's number, but it wasn't Tom.

"Stella, it's me, Mary O'Riley. Tom didn't seem at all well when I stopped by earlier so I came back, and he's in a terrible state. I'm taking him to hospital. I'll ring you when we know more."

"Oh God,” Stella whispered.  Ged looked her right in the eyes.

"What’s happened?  Is everything all right?"

She shook her head at him emphatically and listened as the third message began.

"Stella, it's Mary again. Tom's really in a bad way. The doctors are tending to him now, but they said you're designated as his emergency contact and they can't tell me anything. They need your permission before they do much else. I hope you get this message soon. Call me back."

"End of messages," the voice mail voice announced. Stella let her mobile fall into her lap and put her head in her hands, her eyes brimming with tears. Ged placed a hand on her back.

"What's happened, ma'am?"

"It's Tom," she said simply. "I have to go, Ged."

"You can't go tearing off in this state. At least let me drive you."

Stella couldn't even bring herself to argue, and handed over the keys to Bridget at once.

If it had been bad in the court room, imagining all the things that could possibly have happened, it was much, much worse on the ride to the hospital. She knew she should ring Mary back, but what would she say? What could she say?

Ged parked the car when they arrived at hospital and went around to open the door for Stella. She felt numb. It seemed as if she were in a fog, and she barely registered being led into the building and up to the trauma unit. Mary embraced Stella the moment she saw her, and Ged handed off the keys to the car, muttering something about not meaning to intrude, and left.

"What's happened?" Stella finally choked out.

"I don't really know," Mary admitted. "Like I said on the phone, he just didn't seem right when I went 'round earlier, so I was keeping an eye and ear on his flat, and then I heard what sounded like a crash."

"Oh God," Stella said.

"When I got in there, he was on the floor. He was in so much pain. I rang you as soon as I got him in the car. He asked me to, but then said I shouldn't bother because you were in court and couldn't take calls."

"I'm glad you did anyway," Stella said, her voice shaking.

"Thought you'd want to know," Mary told her.

"What's going on now?" Stella asked. "Is he all right? Can I see him?"

Mary didn't answer her, but looked up. Stella did too. Dr. Kelly stood there, and he addressed her now.

Ms. Gibson, as Tom's emergency contact, I am permitted to talk to you about his case. Would you like to do so in private?"

"No, no, it's fine. Please, just tell me, what's going on?"

"When Tom was shot," Doctor Kelly began, "the bullet grazed his femur close to the joint with the pelvis." He pointed out the location on his own body, then continued. "In normal circumstances, this might result in bursitis, or other minor complaints, but Tom's wound has become infected."

"How?" Stella asked. "We've done just what you told us to do. Everything. To the letter."

"It happens in rare cases, and given Tom's...enthusiasm in physio, I'm a little surprised he didn't have this problem sooner."

"You're saying he's been working his leg too much. He's done more damage than good?"

"In a way," the doctor conceded.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stella demanded. She was getting frustrated. "How was Tom to know he shouldn't be pushing himself so hard?

"Most patients stop when it hurts to continue. Tom keeps going, pushes through the pain."

"He's a police officer," Stella nearly shouted at him. "Of course he pushes through. It's what we're all trained to do!"

"Ms. Gibson, please," Doctor Kelly said, glancing around nervously at the other people on the ward floor, "calm yourself. I think it would probably be best if we continued this conversation in my office." He gestured out the door. Stella huffed, but started in that direction. She grabbed Mary by the hand and dragged her along behind her. Soon she was seated in an armchair, a desk between her and Tom's surgeon. She wondered if he positioned them as such so the desk might offer him some protection, though what form of protection that might be, she didn't know.

"How is Tom now? Where is he? I still haven't seen him."

"We've given him a morphine drip, which is helping with the pain, but it's also making him drowsy and...not like himself."

"You mean, he's high as a kite."

"Yes, Ms. Gibson. I wouldn't take anything he says right now seriously."

"Grand," Stella said now, "just grand. You still haven't told me, where is he?"

"He's in a private room on the trauma ward. I'd like to keep him overnight, just to make sure there isn't more serious infection in his wound."

"Will it be painful for him?" Stella asked.

"Yes," Doctor Kelly said, finally refusing to sugarcoat or skirt around the topic. "The exploration must be done off medication to determine the extent of the infection."

"Does he know that?"

"I'm not entirely certain he understands, but I have told him."

"May I be with him while you do the exploration?"

"I think that would be appropriate, yes. It would give him something else to focus on."

"Very well, then. How soon can you do it?"

"He'll have to be off meds for twelve hours prior to the procedure."

Stella rolled her eyes, but then said, "I'm staying with him. I don't care about your shift change rules. He needs someone with him at all times."

"Very well, Ms. Gibson. Shall I take you to him now?"

"If you could be bothered," Stella said, the animosity clear in her tone.

Doctor Kelly led her back through the ward to Tom's private room. Stella thought he looked terrible. She could see how his face was etched with the pain of his injury and all she wanted to do was erase all of it, take it away from him forever, share in it somehow, but she couldn't. She settled for taking his hand in hers. He opened his eyes when he felt her touch.

"Stella," he breathed.

"Shhh," she told him. "Don't talk, just listen. I'm here, and I'm not leaving you. This is just another hurdle we have to get over. You can do it. I'll be here with you the whole time. They're going to take the medication away. It's going to hurt.”

"Already hurts like hell," he said.

"I'm so sorry, Tom, but they have to get all the drugs out of your system in order to determine the extent of the infection. It's going to hurt a lot more than it does right now, but I'll be here. I'll do what I can to distract you."

"No," he said now, eyes widening. Please, Stella. Don't let them," he pleaded with her.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she said again and again, as the nurses came to discontinue the morphine drip. When they took the IV bag out of the room, Tom looked at Stella with such hurt and betrayal in his expression she nearly burst into tears.

Tom fell asleep briefly and Stella took the opportunity to phone Burns and update him on the situation.

"Is he alright?" Burns asked. Stella could tell it was merely out of common courtesy.

"No. He's not. And I can't leave him right now, Jim. I just can't. They're not entirely sure how long it's going to take to figure out the extent of his injuries, but I'm not leaving his side now. You'll just have to get along without me at Tyler's hearing."

"But Stella--"

"No, sir," she cut him off. "This isn't up for discussion, and I need to get back to him."

"Take care of him, Stella," Burns said in parting. "We need him on this case."

 _Of course_ , Stella thought as the call disconnected. _You only want him for his testimony. For his brain. You could care less about him as an actual person who has to continue living like this._

Over the next several hours, the drugs slowly dissipated, and Tom became increasingly more uncomfortable. He couldn't sleep any longer, the pain was so bad, and he tossed and turned in the hospital bed, his breathing ragged as he bit back cries of agony. Finally, after what seemed like days, his levels were clear, and the surgeons began their exploration of Tom's wound.

It took all Stella's strength to keep calm in the face of it, but she did. She clutched his hands nearly as tightly as he did hers and kept telling him it was going to be all right.

"I want to die," he panted at one point, and it terrified Stella. She had never heard him talk like that before. "I just want it all to end. Please, Stella, make it stop."

"I can't," she told him, tears in her eyes. "It will be over soon, I promise."

And it was. Within the next two minutes (though it seemed an eternity longer than that), the surgeons announced they had finished and gave Tom a sedative, which put him to sleep almost immediately. Nurses reinserted his IV, and Stella wiped the sweat from his face, before drying her own tears. It had been more terrible than anything she had experienced before. She hurt for Tom as much as she hurt for herself. She felt awful that he'd had to go through the ordeal at all and berated herself for encouraging him to push himself during his exercises.

"Ms. Gibson?" Doctor Kelly said, appearing at the door to Tom's room sometime later.

"What is it?" she asked him tiredly.

"I have the results of the exploration. Tom's femur is chipped, and there is considerable damage to the femoral nerves."

"What does that mean, in terms of recovery time?" she asked him.

"He's going to need more surgery to repair the damaged nerve tissue. And we'll have to cast the leg for some time in order for the fracture to heal. We'll want to keep it as immobile as possible."

"So..." Stella said, inviting the doctor to continue, waiting for the really bad news.

"So, it would be best if he didn't use crutches for the next six to eight weeks."

"You mean, he'll be..." Stella couldn't bring herself to say it, knowing how much it would devastate Tom when he found out.

"Yes, he'll be in a wheelchair." Doctor Kelly, put a hand on her arm. "Ms. Gibson, you've been handling Tom's home care up to now, but it's going to be more difficult with him in the chair. How can the hospital help you?"

"I don't want your help," Stella told him stubbornly. "You've done more harm than good. You've tortured him. This is going to destroy him."

"I am so sorry," Doctor Kelly said, but Stella didn't want to hear any more from him. She walked back into Tom's room and shut the door in the surgeon's face before he could utter another word.


	12. Darkest Before the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom's mood takes a turn for the worse.

Tom was released from hospital two days later. The car ride back to his flat was entirely silent. Maneuvering him in and out of the vehicle was incredibly complicated, but Stella had stubbornly refused any help from the hospital. When she tried to help him into the wheelchair outside on the walk, Tom snapped at her.

"I'm not paralyzed, you know. I can actually stand on one of my legs."

"Sorry," she muttered, as he eased himself over into the chair. Stella wondered if he might try to wheel himself inside, but he just sat. Taking a deep breath, she began pushing him around to the back door, the only accessible entrance now. She heard Tom huffing in frustration. When he was inside, however, Tom took control, wheeling awkwardly toward his bedroom, and closing the door behind him.

Stella felt entirely defeated and drained. She sank down on the couch in Tom's sitting room and allowed herself to cry. She needed to be strong for both of them now. She had to keep positive, and she had to try to help Tom see the positive as well, but right now, it was impossible. She needed someone to confide in.

As if in answer to her thoughts, there came a knock at the front door. Stella went to answer it and found Mary on the doorstep.

"I saw you were back," she said quietly. "Are you okay, Stella?"

She tried to answer yes, she was fine, but couldn't do it. Tears were streaming down Stella's cheeks before she could stop them, and Mary took her in her arms and held her for a long while. The other woman was crying too, and for a long time, they stood there in the doorway, taking comfort from each other. Then Stella cleared her throat, and said, "Come in, won't you?"

"Only if you're sure. I don't want to intrude."

"You're not intruding," Stella reassured her. "And besides, I need someone to talk to. It's as if Tom has lost all desire for civil human communication."

Stella led the way back to the sitting room, then set about making tea. Mary sat, looking slightly uncomfortable. When the water had boiled and the tea had steeped, Stella reached into the cupboard for mugs. She paused, wondering, then got down three. She went to Tom's door and knocked quietly.

"Tom? Mary's here. We're going to have some tea if you'd like to join us." Silence greeted these words. "I'll keep your cup warm for you if you change your mind," Stella said now.

"Just leave me alone," came Tom's reply. He sounded absolutely miserable.

Stella returned to the sitting room and Mary poured out the tea.

"He's been like this ever since they told him about the wheelchair and the cast," Stella told Mary. "He feels like he's losing his independence."

"Well, he's got a point there," Mary said.

"True," Stella said now. "I think what's harder for him actually is that he can't continue with his exercises with the cast. He has to keep his weight off it until it's healed, and who knows how long that could take."

"What about the nerve damage?"

"In a way, it's a blessing and a curse," Stella admitted. "They won't do the corrective surgery until the bone's healed, but that means he's just going to keep losing feeling in his leg until they're able to repair them. So, eventually, he won't be in pain, but he won't have a functioning leg either. It's going to be a very long road for him."

"He's lucky he has you," Mary told her now, squeezing Stella's hand comfortingly. "I know you're doing your best. You will let me know if there is anything I can do to help, won't you?"

Stella nodded, swallowing back more tears. "It's hard though, when he doesn't want to accept help."

Mary just gave Stella an understanding look. The two women sat together for a moment more as Mary finished her tea. Then she went to Tom's door, and said, "Hope you feel better soon, Tom."

"Go away," Tom said, his voice muffled through the door, but not lacking in assertiveness.

Mary gave Stella another sad smile, and made her way to the door.

"Thank you for coming 'round, Mary," Stella said, opening it.

"Don't mention it, and I meant what I said, Stella. If you need anything at all, just call me. If I can't help, I know people in the neighborhood will be all too willing to pitch in. We all want to see Tom back to his old self.”

Stella stood at the door watching Mary go for a moment, then closed it and turned back to the kitchen. She needed to start supper, and Tom needed to take his medication. She rummaged in her handbag and pulled out the bottle of pills, reading the directions: Take two pills with food three times daily to alleviate pain.

She set a pot of water on the stove to boil, and began to brown some beef in a pan. Spaghetti bolognese wasn't much, she knew, but it was all she could handle right now. Once it was nearly ready and the pasta had cooked, she knocked again on Tom's door.

"I said, go away."

"You need to eat, Tom. And you need your medication."

"No."

"Don't make me come in there," Stella said, starting to feel very frustrated indeed.

"I don't want it," came Tom's reply.

"Don't be ridiculous," Stella said loudly as she went over to put some pasta on a plate and gather napkin and fork. She stuffed the pill bottle in her pocket and tried the door handle. It turned.

Stella pushed the door open slowly and saw Tom, sitting with his back to her, facing the window. He was twisting his hands in his lap. She put his supper on top of the wardrobe, and went to crouch down in front of him. His expression was blank as he stared into space.

"Tom, it's going to be all right. We'll get through this. But you have to take care of yourself. You have to eat. Have some supper, please."

"What's the point?"

"The point?" Stella said. "The point is to keep your strength up." Tom laughed humorlessly.

"Yeah, right, so I can what? Sit in a chair the rest of my life?"

"No," Stella told him. "So you can get out of the chair. So you can get back to what you love. So you can be a detective again. So you can do what you're meant to be doing." Tom didn't say anything in response to this. "I don't want to have to feed you, but I will if you make me.

Tom took a deep breath and set his hands to the wheels of his chair, turning to maneuver himself out of the room.

Stella followed him to the kitchen table and set his supper in front of him before going to fill her own plate. When she sat down across from him, he looked up at her.

"Do you really think I'll ever get back to it, Stella? That I'll be able to work again?"

"I know you will, Tom. This is just another bump in the road."

"I just feel so...useless."

Stella's mobile rang. It was Burns.

"Sorry, I have to take this," she told him. "Gibson," she said.

"Stella," Burns said. "How is Anderson?" She glanced over at Tom, who was now picking at his spaghetti with mild interest.

"One moment, sir." She got up from the table. "Sorry, I'll just be a minute," she said covering the receiver. She walked quickly to her room and pushed the door nearly shut.

"You're with him, aren't you?" Burns said now.

"Yes sir."

"And you don't want him to hear this conversation because..."

"I have to be frank with you, sir, and I'm afraid Tom won't like it."

"Go on."

"He's...not himself, Jim. He's depressed, moody, and irritable. He needs to get back to work somehow."

"But I thought you said he's had a setback."

"He has, but that's all the more reason he needs to work. He needs to be distracted from the fact that he can't do all that he is accustomed to doing."

"But wouldn't working do exactly the opposite of that? Here he'd be reminded of all the things he can't do right now."

"How many days have you spent sitting at a desk lately, sir?"

"Too many," Burns said.

"Well, that's something Tom _can_ do right now. He just needs some office space and a computer and he'd be all set to go. He could review interrogation tapes from the investigation into the Spector murders. He could start to pull together the case against him."

"He could also, potentially, appear in court," Burns said now.

"Has he been ordered to appear?" Stella asked, not sure if she should feel relieved that Tom would have something to do, or worried about what he might say, how he might react.

"Yes," Burns said. “I'm supposed to relay the message to him as soon as possible.”

"I'll tell him straight away," Stella said.  "Do they want him for Monday?"

"Yes, thank you.  And Stella?  Take care of yourself, too."

"I always do, Jim."

Stella returned to the kitchen replacing her mobile in her pocket before sitting down again.

"Who was that?" Tom asked.

"Burns," she told him.

"What'd he want?"

"He wanted to know how you were doing, and he wanted me to give you a message," Stella said, steeling herself for what would come next.

"And what did you tell him?"  Tom's eyes seemed to be piercing Stella, a challenge, as if to say, _If you lie to me, I'll know._

"The truth," Stella said, unflinching.  "That you're not yourself, and you're certainly nowhere near where you were before the shooting, but that you're ready to go back, at least in a clerk-type position, for now."

"I don't want to be a clerk," Tom said.  "I want to be involved."

"I only said a clerk- _type_ position.  A desk job.  Burns also said they need you to testify at Jimmy's hearing.  The sooner the better."

This effectively distracted Tom.  "I can't wait for him to see just how much he's done," he spat.

"Tom, you mustn't be too hard on him."

"Too hard on him?!" Tom exclaimed, obviously incredulous.  "Stella, he made me a fuckin' cripple.  He maimed me.  I'm in this fuckin' chair because of him.  I want him to see what he's done and I want him to pay.  I want justice to be served upon him.  I want the fuckin' judge to see just how much my life is changed now. And I want him to know how much I've had to give up because of Tyler.  Because of this whole stupid fuckin' case."

Stella had knelt in front of Tom again and she held him, feeling each sharp intake of breath as he worked through his rage.  Tom broke down and wept bitter tears.  Stella held him, stroked his hair, and let him get it all out without saying a word.

When he had quieted again, she said, "It won't do any good to be emotional or angry in court."

"I know," Tom said very quietly.

"I know how frustrating this is for you."

"No, you don't.  You can't possibly know."

"I know how I'd feel if I were in your place," Stella countered.  "I'd feel hurt that nobody seemed to care enough about what had happened to talk to me directly.  I'd feel betrayed by my own body.  I'd feel hopeless.  But I'm trying to give you hope, Tom.  I'm trying to ease you back into the department.  It may only be a desk job to start with, but be honest with yourself.  What else could you do right now?"

"You're right, of course," Tom conceded.  "Has Burns agreed?"

"Not as such," Stella said now, "but I've planted the idea in his head.  He wants you back on this case, Tom.  He wants your mind.  He wants your expertise.  It's a little annoying honestly."

Tom half-smiled at her, and it raised Stella's spirits more than she cared to admit.  "How so?"

"Well, he doesn't really care about _you_ , not like I've grown to."

"Quite a good thing, that, I think," Tom said now, "as I don't really fancy him."

Stella smiled at him.  It had seemed an age since she'd heard him crack a joke.

"It's nice to see you smile again," Tom said.

"I suppose I have been a bit dour lately, haven't I?  Not that the situation didn't warrant it."

"True."

"If I do bring Burns 'round, and he gets that desk job set up for you, you will take it, won't you?"

"Honestly, I'll take anything to distract me from this reality," Tom said, growing solemn again, and looking down at his lap, his casted leg sticking straight out.

"I knew you'd say that.  I knew you wouldn't be able to just sit around here all day."

"Are you kidding?  I spent enough time doing that this week.  It was awful."

"You're just not one to stay put for very long, are you Tom?"

"Never have been, never will be."

Stella cupped his now bearded cheek in her palm and kissed him.  He kissed her back, rather enthusiastically.

"Stella," he moaned against her mouth.  His name was on her lips too.

Finally, they broke apart, and Tom sat very still for awhile, eyes closed.  Stella brought him a glass of water and his medication.  He swallowed it in one large gulp, then began wheeling back toward his room.  Stella was unsure if she should follow him, but then he looked back to her, and said, "You coming?"  She smiled and nodded back at him.


	13. Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom testifies at Jimmy Tyler's hearing.

Monday morning saw the two of them going to work together once more. Tom was dressed, as much as possible, in his police uniform. He still needed the track pants as they were the only thing that would fit over his casted leg, but his top half was all business. He was getting better with the chair too. He could now wheel a straight, smooth line around his flat and no longer seemed as if he hated the chair, though she knew it still irked him, having his mobility so limited. They arrived at the courthouse together rather early--Tom had not wanted people to see the awkwardness of transitioning from car to chair--so they were already seated in the court room when the others from the PSNI began to arrive.

Everyone seemed overjoyed to see Tom, though seeing him in the chair was an obvious shock. Stella only hoped it would be the same for Jimmy. Perhaps that was the silver lining of the chair. It gave Tom more of a presence, even as it diminished him.

Jimmy was led to the defendant's seat, and Stella couldn't miss how his eyes lingered on Tom. When the judge entered the court room and the "All rise" was heard, most eyes turned to Tom. He merely shrugged with a sort of "would if I could," attitude. Stella had discussed this with Tom. It was a very calculated move. Of course, he _could_ rise, with difficulty, but was it best for Jimmy to know that straight away? He wouldn't be expected to, so it would not be a matter of being in contempt of court. It was deliberate and bold and it made a statement louder than words could have.

Tom was called to testify, and he wheeled slowly to the stand.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do," came his steady reply.

"Mr. Anderson, can you describe for us the morning of the attempt on Paul Spector's life?"

"It was damp. He said he was going to show us where he'd kept Rose Stagg. It was a huge breakthrough for the case, so of course, we went along with it. He led us into the wood, and when we couldn't go any further by car, we got out."

"And that's when you handcuffed yourself to him?"

"Yes. It's standard police procedure. If the informant is a charged criminal, they have to remain in custody, even if they are cooperating with a police investigation."

"Did you see or hear anything in the wood that might suggest Spector was in danger?"

"No."

"Did you hear the call over police radio that there was suspicious activity in the area?

"No."

"Mr. Anderson, did you have any contact with Mr. Tyler prior to the incident?"

"Yes."

"Could you describe the nature of that contact for the court?"

"I'd arrested him previously for actions pursuant to the case against Paul Spector."

"But he'd been released."

"Yes."

"So, there is a possibility that James Tyler had motivation to harm you as well."

"I suppose so, yes. It would explain why he fired a second shot, after I pushed Spector down, out of the line of fire."

"So, he targeted you."

"When you put it that way, yes, he did."

"Mr. Anderson, Mr. Tyler has already admitted to the fact that the shooting of Paul Spector was pre-meditated. Do you have any cause to believe that his actions in shooting you were pre-meditated as well?"

"I don't believe so," Tom said. "I think I was just there, and he took advantage of the opportunity. Two birds with one stone, as it were."

There followed a silence as the judge considered this. Then, "Thank you, Mr. Anderson. You may step--er--you may leave the witness stand." Tom nodded and wheeled back to his place in the court room next to Stella. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it.

"Well done," she whispered. Tom half smiled at her.

When court was pronounced in recess for lunch, Stella pushed Tom to a quiet corner of the courthouse, away from their other colleagues, so Tom could eat in peace.

"Wouldn't it be better, part of the act, to eat with the rest of the department?" Tom asked. Let them see, for instance, the amount of medication I still need?"

"It may detract from your goal of getting back to work as soon as possible, actually. You want to seem as much of an invalid in court as you can, but with our colleagues, our friends, I think it's best you try to come across as much in command of the situation as possible. And downing a half dozen pain relievers in one is not the best way to go about that."

"You're probably right," Tom said as he tossed back the medication, a lower dose over the counter version which would be allowed in court, rather than his stronger prescription.

"You were brilliant up there, you know," Stella told him.

"It was actually a lot easier than I thought it would be," he said.  "I just focused on the judge and the barrister.  Kept my answers brief and on topic.  The judge'll thank me for getting right to the point.  I'm sure he's heard a few too many rambling testimonies in his time."

Stella unwrapped the sandwiches she had packed from home and handed one to Tom.  They ate in silence for a moment before they heard footsteps approaching them.  Stella turned and saw Ged standing there, awkwardly.  She glanced from Ged to Tom, noticing the challenge in Tom's eyes.

"Good to see you, Anderson," Ged said, after clearing his throat rather audibly.

"Same," Tom replied, still staring him down, as if daring him to make some sort of comment about Tom's injury or the chair.  Ged seemed to squirm under his glare.

"Is there anything you need, Ged?" Stella asked him, trying to relieve some of the tension between the two men.

"I just wondered where you'd got to," Ged said.  "You're welcome to join us in the canteen if you want."

"Thank you, Ged," Stella said, before Tom could respond, "but we're fine here.  It's been a bit of a full morning."  _With too many eyes on Tom.  Let him have some privacy,_ she added in her head.

"Of course," Ged said, and he turned and walked away.

Tom huffed out in apparent agitation.  "Come for the show, did he?  Come to see what it's like for a cripple to eat on his own?  Come to revel in my isolation?"

"Don't say that," Stella said, laying a placatory hand on his arm.  "He didn't mean it like that.  And don't call yourself a cripple.  You aren't.  I think it's just hard for them to see you like this."

"It's not much fun on this end, either."

"I know.  But you have to think what it's like for them.  They haven't seen you, day in and day out, like I have.  They don't know how amazing it is that you're here and you're coherent.  They don't realize how much courage it took for you to come here today, like this, and be here in front of everyone.  You've been so brave, and I want you to know I'm proud of you."

"It goes both ways though, doesn't it?" Tom said now.  "You've got to have courage to sit here with me, be seen with me, and have our relationship on public display for the first time.  I know you've said the department knows, but do they really know, or have they just been speculating?  Now it's real to them."

"Yes, I suppose it is," she said.  The announcement was made that court would resume in two minutes.  "You ready to go back and face more eyes?"

Tom nodded and wheeled himself smoothly back to the court room to take his place in the crowd once more.

That night when they got back to Tom's flat, he seemed tired, stiff, and irritable, so Stella helped him into bed and warmed some soup on the stove.  When it was ready, she brought two bowls into his room and the two of them ate in silence.  Tom's eyelids were drooping when Stella stood to take the dishes back to the sink.  When she came back, he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"It's been a long day," she told him.  "Get some rest."

"Stella?" he murmured.

"Yes, Tom?"

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

"I've been staying here, Tom.  Where else do I have to go?" she told him, not quite understanding what he meant.

"No, I mean, will you stay _here_ , with me?"

"If that's what you want."

"It is," he whispered, nearly asleep now.

Stella removed her shoes and climbed onto the bed next to Tom.  She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and draped her arm across his body.

"I love you," Tom whispered, and then he really was asleep.  It took Stella aback for a moment.  As much as they had been together and as far as they had gone, neither of them had actually said the words yet.  But as she thought about it, Stella realized she felt the same for him.

"I love you, too," she whispered in his ear, though she knew he probably couldn't hear her.  She snuggled closer to him, careful of his leg, and closed her eyes.


	14. One Step Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burns presents Tom with a proposition.

Stella woke with a start, her mobile ringing an insistent pattern in her pocket.  Extracting herself from the tangle of limbs they had become overnight, she hurriedly accepted the call.  "Gibson," she said in nearly a whisper.

"Stella?  Is everything all right?"  It was Burns, and though she knew she had no reason to be embarrassed, that he couldn't actually see the situation which he had interrupted, Stella felt her face turn red as she tiptoed quickly out of Tom's room.

"Everything's fine, sir.  What is it?"

"That desk job you were talking about for Anderson.  Well, after seeing him in court yesterday, it seems he is ready to return to work.  I'm setting up an office for him this morning.  He can start tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir.  He'll be pleased."

"Don't mention it.  I've told you before, Stella, we need him on this case."

"I couldn't agree more, sir."

"But Stella?"

"Yes, Jim?"

"I know the two of you have become...close.  Don't let that blind you at work.  He's still going to have to answer to me, and to the higher ups, and if his work isn't up to snuff, I will recommend he go back on medical leave."

"He's ready, Jim.  He's spent enough time cooped up at home or in hospital.  He needs this.  He needs to feel useful again."

"I believe you, I do, but I must reserve judgment until I've seen what he's capable of."

"Of course, Jim.  I don't think you'll be disappointed."

"Let him know for me, will you?”

"I thought you didn't want me to take advantage of us being together when it came to work."

"I don't, but I hardly see how that's relevant."

"Tell him yourself.  Call _him_.  At a decent hour.  It will mean much more coming directly from you.  It won't seem as if I've pulled strings to get him back to work."

"All right, all right, I get the point," Burns said.  "Tyler's hearing has concluded, so now we're just waiting on an official court date.  That's another reason I'm calling about this now.  Our efforts can be put back on the Spector case.  We need more information from him, Stella.  I'm hoping I can count on you to handle his questioning."

"Of course, sir."

"See you soon, Stella."

"Right, thank you, sir.”

Stella ended the call, then went back to Tom's room to check on him.  He was still sleeping in peaceful oblivion.  She looked at him for a moment, taking in his features, free of worry and pain right now, as they so often weren't these days.  He was undeniably handsome.  Leaning down, she kissed him, starting at his forehead, then trailing her way down his temple and stubbly jaw line before arriving at his mouth.  He was stirring now.

"Morning," he mumbled.

"Good morning," she said, smiling down at him.  "How are you feeling?"

"Right now, or in general?"

"Either," she said.

"Right now, I'm thinking I probably shouldn't have pushed myself so much yesterday," he winced.  "But in general, I'm content to be in love with you, if you'll have me, that is."

Stella smiled and kissed him again in response.

"Am I to take it, then, that the feeling is mutual?"

"Yes," she said.  "I'll make us some breakfast so you can get some pain meds into you.  Nothing fancy, mind.  Just some porridge, or something."

"Sounds great," said Tom, wincing again as he sat up in bed.

Before long, the two of them sat together at the table tucking into their breakfast.  Tom took two mouthfuls, before reaching for his medication.

"How bad is it this morning?" Stella asked him.

"About a seven," he told her, using the pain scale from hospital.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he told her.  "I don't think the over the counter stuff works nearly as well as the stronger stuff, though, even at the same dosage."

"Hang in there," Stella said, squeezing his hand in hers.  "It'll be better eventually."

"Yeah, I know.  But I don't know that I want it to be better, if you know what I mean."

Stella knew exactly what he meant.  It would get better, but only because the nerves were no longer functioning.  It would get better, but it would mean a longer recovery time in the end.  It would get better only to get worse before it got better permanently.  She frowned.

"I understand," she said.  "I don't know how you do it, facing the inevitably long recovery time and being so strong."

"I try not to think about it, to be honest."

"I have good news on that score, actually.  Well, Burns does.  Keep your phone handy today."

"Did he say something?  Am I going to be able to go back?"

"He should be the one to tell you," Stella insisted.

"You just want to keep me in suspense," Tom said, more amused than annoyed.

"No, I just want to keep Burns from turning me into little more than a messenger.  And he really should be the one to tell you.  They can't keep mincing around you like you're some delicate piece of china that might shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest touch."

Tom smiled.  "You're good at sticking up for people."

"Comes with the job description, I suppose," Stella told him.  Tom lingered over his morning tea, the newspaper at his elbow, but he wasn't reading it.  "Should be something about the hearing in the papers, shouldn't there?"

"I expect so," Tom said, "but I don't see the point in reading about it.  It just gets me riled."

"Not to mention, we were there."

"Exactly.  It's really hard for me to reconcile the terrible reporting with the awful reality.  I think they just do it to make the public feel better about how things are.  If they really knew what goes on in the legal system, they'd be shocked."

Stella glanced at her watch.  Half eight.  She groaned.  "I know I should go, but I don't want to."

"Diving back into the Spector case today, are you?"

"Yes.  Burns wants me as lead interrogator."  She stood and walked around behind Tom to lean down and place a kiss on his neck.  "Will you be okay, alone today?"

"Yeah,"

"I don't think it'll be for much longer," she told him.

"Ha!  So Burns does want me back."

"He's been saying it for weeks now, but all he wants is your brain, and he could have that from home.  Wait, and let him talk to you about it."

"Yes, ma'am,"

"I'll see you tonight," Stella told him.

The day at work was torturous.  Stella's office was down the corridor from where Tom's was to be, and she watched as workmen brought first desk, then computer and monitor down the corridor.  She debated taking a peek at the room, but decided against it.  Burns called her into his office, that afternoon.

"What is it, sir?"

"Figured you'd like to be here when I made that call."

"You mean, you haven't spoken with him yet?"

"I wanted to be sure we were ready for him first.  He's been in the field a long time, Stella.  He may not want this position."

"Nevertheless, he needs to be back at work.  He needs to be doing something other than sitting in his flat for hours on end, alone with his thoughts and regrets.  He'll take the job, even if it's not something he particularly fancies."

"I just hope you're right," Burns said, picking up the receiver and dialing Tom's flat, before putting the phone on speaker.

"Hello?"  Stella was relieved to hear Tom's voice, calm and clear as if he was managing his discomfort well today.

"Anderson, this is DCI Burns."

"Sir," Tom said.

"I was...impressed with what I saw of you in court yesterday.  You seem like you should be getting back to work soon."

"I'd like nothing better, sir."

"When you see yourself back at work, what do you imagine?"

"Well, if I'm honest, sir, I see myself back on the streets, doing what I've been doing my entire career with the PSNI, but I realize that's not really an option for me right now."

"No, well, would you be content in a different position, at least for the time being?"

"I'd take any work you have for me, sir.  I want to be of assistance in the Spector and Tyler cases as much as I can."

"And I need you on those cases," Burns told him fervently.  "How about a desk job, reviewing evidence?  With your keen eye for detail, I'm sure you could be an excellent analyst for us."

"I'd be pleased to, sir."

"Very well.  I'll expect you tomorrow morning to move into your new office here at headquarters."

"Thank you, sir.  I appreciate your confidence in me."

"You're a good detective, Anderson.  I would hate to have lost you.  I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir."

The call disconnected and there was the slightest sound of a dial tone before Burns turned off the speaker on the phone.

"Well, I suppose you were right," Burns said to Stella.  "He does seem keen to get back here, in however lowly a capacity."

"Just don't keep him bottom of the food chain for too long," Stella asked him.  "It'll crush his spirit almost as effectively as being stuck in hospital did.”

"You've said yourself, though, he's not fully recovered."

"No, he isn't."

"He'll need more surgery?"

"Yes."

"Then, I have to keep him in a low-profile job.  He can't be more involved until we're sure he's going to make a full recovery.  I'm sure you understand, Stella.  I can't put him somewhere if his absence would be a huge detriment to the case."

"I do understand, Jim.  Thank you for doing what you can, and what is best for him."

Stella stood in Burns' office for a few moments more, just staring at her feet.  Then Burns cleared his throat.  "Right then, back to work."

"Yes, sir."  She walked back to her office with a smile on her face.  She couldn't wait to get home to celebrate with Tom.

Stella had put in enough late nights in the past two months that she felt no guilt whatsoever closing her laptop at exactly five o'clock and leaving.  She stopped at the shops and bought some steak and baking potatoes.  They were going to celebrate tonight.

"What's all this?" Tom asked as she came in the door with her shopping.

"It's for you, in honor of your return to work tomorrow," she told him.

"You knew about this, didn't you?"

"Burns called me this morning," Stella admitted.  "And he had me in the room when he rang you.  Congratulations, Tom."

"Not sure there's much to be congratulated about.  It's not like I'm getting a promotion.  If anything it almost feels like a demotion."

"It's not though," Stella said, taking his hand in hers.  "And, for what it's worth, I think you deserve a promotion once all of this is over."

"Thanks," Tom said, and he kissed her at the base of her neck.  Stella sighed and turned to kiss him back.  Then she pulled herself away.

"Better get these steaks on if we want a proper celebration."

Tom grinned.  "Not sure I agree with your definition of proper, but I won't say no to a good steak."

Soon the smell of the meat cooking on the stove permeated the entire flat.  They ate in silence, trading smiles as they did so.

"I suppose we'd best turn in early if we're both to be at work in the morning," Tom said.

"Yes, I suppose so," Stella replied taking the dishes to the sink.  "You go.  The washing up won't take long."

Tom wheeled down the hall to his room, and Stella began scrubbing the pan and the dishes in the sink.  When she had finished, she knocked on Tom's door.

"Come in," he said.

"Just checking to see if you're all right."

"I'm grand," he said, a broad smile on his face.  "The only thing that would make it better is you here with me."

Stella hesitated.  She wanted to be with him, of course, but she was worried they were taking it too fast.  She went into the room and sat on the bed so she could be on Tom's level as he sat in the chair.

"Do you think we should?" she asked him, rather seriously.

"I love you," he told her.

"And I love you," she reassured him, "but we're taking things a bit fast, don't you think?  Maybe we should...I don't know, take a step back?  Especially with us working together again.  I don't want to ruin what we're able to do at work by getting too...intimate with each other right now."

Tom looked disappointed.  "I thought, after last night..."

"Don't get me wrong.  Last night was great.  But there's only so far we can go before it's going to end up hurting us both, and I mean physically as well as emotionally.  I don't want to hurt you, Tom."

Tom stared down at his casted leg.  "We can be careful," he muttered.  Stella put a hand under his chin and raised his face so they could meet eye to eye.

"Yes, we can.  We were last night because we didn't get the chance to lose ourselves in each other.  But now, it's different.  I want you so badly, but I know I wouldn't be able to stop if it went too far.  I've been down this road before."  She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes before saying the next words.  "With colleagues.  It didn't end well."

"I would never hurt you, Stella."

"I believe you would do everything you could not to hurt me, Tom.  I just...can't yet.  Please believe me when I say, I want to.  I want to so badly, but I can't allow myself to go there until I'm absolutely sure.  Do you understand?"

"I understand," Tom said, "but I won't deny that it makes me sad you have to be so much in control of yourself, just to make sure you aren't hurt again."

"Thank you," Stella told him.  "Sleep well."  She kissed him on the cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder as she drew away.

"You too.  See you in the morning," Tom said.

She closed the door to his room and crossed the corridor to her own room.  Once inside, she let out a great sigh.  It had been so difficult denying him, but Stella had meant what she'd said.  She wanted to be absolutely sure about him before they went any further.  And, she thought, the biggest test of the strength of their feelings for each other was yet to come.


	15. Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom returns to work. Stella is frustrated by the stand still their relationship seems to have come to. There are developments in Tom's condition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! Chapter 15! I can't believe I've written just over 25k words in this story so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's kind of got a lot packed in there.
> 
> Sorry for the long delay in posting. I had file maintenance days at work after my kiddos were done, and then I got roped into doing two weeks of summer school.
> 
> Two additional things:
> 
> 1) I had to up the rating given some of the things that transpire in this chapter.  
> 2) I went through and made some minor line edits and spelling changes throughout the whole story, but the plot hasn't changed. I'm just nitpicky about stuff.

Even though they both rose earlier than usual, Stella and Tom arrived at headquarters just as most people were getting to work.  Stella knew Tom must feel self-conscious as he transferred from car to chair, but she was proud of him for holding his head high and ignoring the stares as he wheeled toward the entrance.

He'd had enough eyes on him at court, Stella thought, and now there were even more.  It seemed people couldn't help but stare as he passed them.  Stella had to keep herself from sending dirty looks at all the onlookers.  She knew they weren't doing it to be rude, but that didn't make the situation any more comfortable.

Burns met them, just inside the door.  It seemed strange for him to look down at Tom when they would usually be at eye level, but he didn't seem patronizing about it in the slightest.  Stella gave Tom one last encouraging smile and left Burns to show Tom to his office.  There would no doubt be a steady stream of visitors passing by his door today, and Stella didn't want to telegraph their closeness to too many others too quickly.  The department would know soon enough.

She busied herself with reviewing Katie Bennedetto's interrogation tapes.  As much as she felt a little guilty for making Tom run that particular interview, it also meant she got to see him, hear his voice, even though she couldn't let herself be too near him today.

An hour or so into the day, there came a knock on her open door, and Stella looked up to see Reed standing there.  She smiled at her.

"Come in, Reed, sit down."

"Thank you, Stella," she said smiling conspiratorially at her.  "So," she said after a moment.  "He's back today."

Stella didn't reply, deliberately attempting to return to her work.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Reed asked her.

"What about?" Stella said.

"Anderson!" Reed said.

"Why would I?"

"Stella, it's obvious there's something going on between the two of you."

"Is it?"

"Don't be coy with me," Reed said, "I saw how you two were in court the other day, and you disappeared together at lunch time.  You arrive together, you leave together.  Something's up."

"He needs someone to look after him, that's all.  I've been helping him at home."

"That's all it is?  There isn't something...I don't know...more between you?"

"What do you want from me?  A confession of my undying affection for him?"

"If that's the truth."

Stella sighed.  "I don't know what it is, to be honest, Reed.  I want it to be something.  He wants it to be something.  Maybe he wants it more than I do, I don't know.  But yes, there is something between us more than friendship.  More than just patient and caretaker.  But we're trying to be professional at work.  We're trying to keep the personal side at home as much as we can."

"I heard you moved out of your hotel.  Are you staying with him?"

"Yes."

"Are you..." Reed hesitated as if trying to decide if she was going too far in asking the question.  "Have you, you know, slept together yet?"

"You mean, have we fucked?" Stella said, getting annoyed with Reed's mincing around the topic.  She was glad to see Reed blush slightly at her bluntness.  "No.  Well, not since it happened."

Reed gasped.  "So, you _were_ intimate before?"

"Keep your voice down!" Stella hissed.  "Yes, once.  The night before _it_ happened.  I thought it was just a fling.  A one-night stand.  But everything changed when Tyler wounded him.  I saw him, lying there on the ground, and I knew that if I lost him, I'd lose a piece of myself.  He's so much more to me than just a colleague."

"It's plain you care about him a great deal."

"I love him, and he loves me, but we're trying to be discreet.  I don't want it to get in the way of our professional lives.  I don't think he quite understands why just yet.  I suppose that's the advantage of experience."

"I don't think you're going to be able to hide for much longer," Reed said, giving Stella a highly skeptical look.

"No, nor do I, especially if Tom doesn't want to keep it from people, but at least we can say we tried to keep our personal lives out of our work."

Reed rose from her seat across the desk from Stella.  "I should get back to my lab.  I'll leave you to it.  But you can talk to me any time you want, Stella.  I'm here for you.  For both of you."

"Thank you, Reed, I'll keep that in mind."

Stella smiled a little sadly at her retreating back, and returned her attention to the Bennedetto interviews.  The tapes were sickening to Stella now.  Katie went on about how she and Spector loved each other and he was going to leave his wife for her, and it just made Stella cringe.  That someone could be that infatuated with the man that they chose to overlook the gruesome murders and even being restrained themselves...she wanted to rage and storm at the girl that it wasn't love.  It was obsession, and it was abuse, and thank God Spector would be locked up now and could do no further harm.

The phone rang.  "Gibson," Stella answered.

"It's Ferrington, ma'am."

"Dani, how are things?"

"Rose Stagg is ready to talk, ma'am."

"All right.  Set up for an interview this afternoon, but Dani?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"She's going to be scared, and rightfully so, but we need her information.  Keep things as informal as possible.  You'll probably want to go plain clothes.  And tell her that we will be using any information she gives us to make sure that Spector never harms another person again."

"Yes, ma'am.  Will you be there?"

"I should be, yes.  One o'clock or later."

"See you then, ma'am."

As the clock ticked over to twelve o'clock, Stella felt her mobile buzz in her pocket.  She'd set alarms for herself to make sure Tom got his medication when needed.  She stretched and got up, making her way out of her office and down the hall toward his.  She felt herself tensing, their misunderstanding from the night before still weighing heavily on her mind.  She stood for a while in his doorway, noting his intense concentration, the furrowed brows, the slight frown, and smiled to herself before clearing her throat.  Tom looked up.

"You ready for lunch?" she asked him.

"Just give me one second," he said, returning his gaze to his screen, tapping a few keys on his keyboard, then closing the lid on his laptop.  He wheeled toward her, a slight grimace crossing his face.

"You doing okay?" she said.

"Yeah, just twinges a bit," he said, determinedly not meeting her eye.

"I brought both your prescription and the over the counter stuff," she told him.  "Which would you like?" 

Tom seemed to give it serious consideration for a moment, before relenting, "Prescription.  I know I should try to manage with the lower dosage stuff, but I don't know how they would affect my work, you know?"

"Yeah."

They entered the break room, the people already there greeting Tom enthusiastically and looking, Stella was sure they thought surreptitiously, from him to Stella without commenting.  She guided him over to a corner of the room, got their lunches out of the fridge, and got him a glass of water before sitting down.

"Here," she said, handing over the bottle of pills.

"Thanks," he said, still avoiding eye contact.  They ate their leftover steak sandwiches in silence, and when he had finished, Tom rolled his shoulders twice, and pushed himself back from the table, making to return to his office without a word to Stella.  It hurt, but Stella supposed it was better this way.  If Tom was taking her suggestion of distance to mean that they had minimal interaction at work, she tried to convince herself it was fine with her.  She only hoped his chilly disposition was an act put on for their colleagues.

Stella couldn't keep her thoughts from drifting to Tom, even as she sat with Dani and Rose later, listening and offering increasingly meaningless words of comfort as Rose sniffled and cried through the interview.  Stella knew this must be torture for Rose, and after an hour and a half called a halt.

"Thank you, Rose.  You've been so strong, so brave to do this," Stella told her, trying to blink back the prickle of unshed tears.  Suddenly she found her arms full of the other woman.

"Thank you," she kept saying over and over again.  "Thank you for finding me.  Thank you for not giving up."  Stella held her, rubbing her back soothingly, and after a few moments, Rose released her.  The poor woman had gone through so much.  Stella understood the pain and the fear, and she knew that Rose wouldn't need to hear that to know she wasn't alone.

"I'll see you out," Dani said to Rose, taking her by the shoulder and leading her to the exit.

Stella had hoped the distance between Tom and her would disappear once they were back at his flat together.  It did not.  She longed to tell him all about the interview with Rose, but he shut himself away in his room and only came out briefly for dinner that night, hardly speaking to her at all other than grunted thanks for the meal.

It went on like this for two weeks.  Having Tom back at work presented almost as many difficulties as it solved.  On the one hand, Stella didn't have to worry about him being alone the whole time, but on the other, she felt like she needed to watch him even more carefully.  He hadn't worked in almost two months, and now he was throwing himself into the research and analysis for the Spector and Tyler cases to the point of obsession.  It was as if he were trying to make up for lost time.

Tom would get so wrapped up in his review of evidence, Stella had to be diligent in minding the alarms on her phone to walk down to his office to make sure he ate and took his medication.  He wouldn’t otherwise, and as such, they appeared to interact far more than they had done previously, but it was all kept on a professional level.  Ever since the night Tom had asked her to stay and Stella had refused, she felt like Tom had started to erect a wall between them, effectively halting any progress their relationship might have made.  While Stella appreciated the distance in terms of professionalism, it saddened her that he might think she couldn't let herself love him as much as they both wanted to.

They came and went together, they took their meals together, they saw more of each other than they had done in recent weeks when Stella had been working and Tom had been stuck at home, and yet it seemed they had stalled out in terms of intimacy.  Finally, as Tom perused case files over his pudding one night, having barely glanced at Stella all evening, she could stand it no longer.

"Tom," she said, after clearing her throat loudly several times.

"Hm?" came his reply, his gaze still resolutely on the report in front of him.  Stella went around the table and closed the folder containing the report, determined to have Tom's full attention.  "Eh--I wasn't quite finished with that yet," he said, looking over his shoulder at her.

"We need to talk," Stella said, her brow furrowed in seriousness.

"Fine, but can I finish first?"

"It can wait."

"Burns wants it by Friday."

"It's Tuesday.  It.  Can.  Wait."  Stella walked over to the couch and sat down, looking at Tom expectantly.

"Fine."  Tom let out a great sigh and pushed back from the table, wheeling over to position himself closer to her.  "What's this about?"

Stella took a deep breath.  There was so much on her mind.  Where to start?  "What are we doing, Tom?"

"We're talking.  I thought that's what you wanted to do right now."

"No, I mean, us.  What are we doing?  We had something.  I know you felt it too.  But lately, it just feels as if we're stuck.  We're not really together.  It's as if we're just co-existing."

"You made it clear you wanted to slow down," Tom said.

"Slow down, yes.  Not stop entirely.  Not go in reverse.  I miss you, Tom," Stella admitted, reaching out to take his hand.  Tom's expression softened, and he sighed again as he wheeled closer.

"I miss you, too, Stella, but work is...it's been busy."

"I was busy before, and I made time for you.  I gave you my evenings.  I left work at work.  Mostly, anyway.  You needed me.  Now it feels like not only do you not need me anymore, you don't want me here."

"Of course I want you here, Stella.  But it's like you said weeks ago.  You have your reputation to think of, and you have a home in England, and I have to come to terms with the fact that when this case is over, you'll leave, and I probably won't ever see you again.  I know you said you couldn't get too close because of what people would think.  Well, I can't get too close because I can't bear the thought of you leaving, and if I let myself love you I won't be able to let you go.  But I want to Stella, I want to let myself love you, because I do.  I love you so much."

There were tears in Stella's eyes now, and the look of hurt on Tom's face was so deeply etched it looked as if it might cleave him in two.  Stella reached for him as he reached for her, and then they were in each other's arms.

"I can't hide anymore, Tom," she sniffed into his shoulder.

"I never wanted you to," he told her.  "It was just easier to bury myself in work and try not to think about it than to have you always so near but never close enough.  I need you, Stella."

He kissed her then, their foreheads pressed together and it felt like a dam had burst in Stella’s chest.  Her want for him, her need for him was poured out into that kiss and she lost herself in the sensations of it.  His mouth on hers, the soft tickle of his beard, which he still hadn’t shaved, his breath hot and hungry as they tasted one another.  After several long moments, Stella pulled back, gazing into Tom’s eyes, drinking him in.

After what seemed like a glorious forever, they pulled apart, and gazed at each other.  Then Tom broke the heavy silence between them.  "Will you stay with me tonight, Stella?"

Up until a few minutes ago, Stella would have refused, but now, with Tom looking at her with hunger and need in his eyes, and her own heart pounding with her longing for him, she found she could not.  She nodded her assent, and let him lead the way.

When Stella thought back on that night later, it seemed a complete blur.  She had been so lost in sensation and emotion and want and need and love and lust.  It started as sweet kisses and soft touches, each helping the other out of their clothing, while trying to maintain nearly constant contact.  And then there had been nothing but skin on skin and Stella's brain had quite effectively switched off as her world became little more than the tunnel vision of Tom:  his mouth, his tongue, his breath coming in harsh gasps, as he roved over her.  And yet, Stella was cognizant of the fact she would need to do most of the work.  Not that she minded of course.  It might seem only natural as she was the more experienced of the pair.  Tom still being limited by his cast made things a little trickier, but certainly not impossible.

When they finally found release together, Stella rolled over beside Tom laughing breathlessly.  Tom took several deep breaths of his own before asking, "Good?"

"So good," she murmured, letting her eyes flutter closed as she rolled onto her stomach, arm draped across Tom's chest.  She was almost instantly asleep.

She dreamed of him too.  She dreamed she was back in England, but Tom was there, and he was whole and he was happy, and they were making a life together.  At night they would cuddle together in bed, needing no more than the intimacy of the other person next to them.

"Stella," Tom would murmur, and Stella felt so loved and warm and whole in a way she had not in so long.  "Stella."  Firmer now, as if he was staking his claim to her.

"Stella?"

She awoke to Tom's voice, the trace of panic that laced his tone making her instantly alert.  She looked at him, his expression showing confusion and a little bit of fear.

"Tom, what's wrong?" she asked him, sitting up and taking his hand in hers.

"I--" he gasped and swallowed thickly, "I can't feel it.  My leg.  I can't feel it anymore, Stella."  Tom was breathing hard and fast, as panic overtook him.  Stella felt her own chest tighten, and clutched his hand tightly in hers as frightened tears glistened in Tom's eyes.

"Shhhhh," she told him, running fingers through his hair, feeling the clammy coolness at the back of his neck.  "It's going to be all right.  Deep breaths.  It's going to be all right," she reassured him.

"How is this supposed to be all right?!" Tom burst out, near hysterical now.

"Tom, please.  Listen to me.  I'm right here.  You're okay.  I need you take deep breaths.  Breathe with me, okay?"  Stella inhaled slowly, then exhaled for a count of ten, keeping eye contact with Tom the whole time.  Gradually, his breathing came back to normal and the fear seemed to leave his eyes, though tears were streaming down his cheeks.  "You're okay.  You're okay.  It's going to be all right," Stella kept repeating to him.  After what seemed like a long while, Tom crumpled, collapsing into Stella's arms.  She held him, rubbing his back as his sobs continued to tear through him.

They had both known this was coming, but the awful reality of Tom's nerve damage had proved almost too much for him to bear.  Stella held him and whispered what she hoped were comforting words, but the whole time all she could think about was the long road that was still ahead for Tom now.

When he finally calmed enough to allow her to disengage from him, Stella walked down the hall toward the room she was using as her own, and rang Dr. Kelly.

"It's happened, then," the surgeon said when Stella described Tom's symptoms to him.  "The damaged nerve tissue has died.  We can operate to repair the damage just as soon as the cast comes off."

"He's really upset," Stella told Dr. Kelly, feeling her own tears close to the surface.

"I'm not surprised.  It's hard feeling as if you're losing control of your own body.  But he's going to be fine.  We'll be able to repair the damage."

"I think he feels like he's never going to walk again," Stella admitted.

"Ms. Gibson, I can assure you, that is not going to be the case.  He's going to have to work at it, but we'll have Tom up and around again, you'll see.  It's just going to take some time."

That's what Stella was afraid of.  The case was dragging out, but it wouldn't last forever.  Once it was over, she would be leaving, going back to her position at the Met.  What if she had to leave Tom before he was fully recovered?  She didn't know if either of them would be able to manage that kind of separation.  Tears streamed down Stella's cheeks, but she wiped them away quickly with the back of her hand before saying, "Thank you, doctor," in as steady a voice as she could manage.

Stella took several steadying breaths before leaving the room.  Tom would need her full support now, and she couldn't show signs of distress in front of him.  She had to be strong for both of them now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: there may be another delay between chapters in the future. I'm going to summer classes myself starting next Monday, and then I'm going to be on vacation for a week after that and most likely won't have internet most of the places we're going.


	16. Sinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom is starting to feel the emotional toll of what he's going through. Stella tries to help him through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter! Finally! So sorry, it's taken so long! I've got a big class of kiddos this year, and they're taking a lot of my time and energy. Not to mention the health scare we had in our family at the end of August... But have no fear, this story is still in my head and I'm not stopping until it's finished.

Stella wasn't sure it was best for Tom to go into work that day, but he insisted.  The ride to headquarters was entirely silent.  She really didn't know what to say to him.  What could she say that would make any sort of difference to what he was feeling right now?

As they entered the building, several people greeted them, but all Tom managed in response was a sort of grunt.  When they caught Stella's eye inquiringly, she would give just the slightest shake of the head as if to say, _Don't push it._   She debated whether she should walk with Tom all the way to his office, but thought better of it.  He was in such a dark mood, it would probably only result in him biting her head off, and she knew he wouldn't really mean it and feel awful about it afterwards.

Stella found it very difficult to focus on anything that morning, unconsciously straining her ears for the slightest sound of something not quite right down the hall.  It took a little longer than she thought it might, but about eleven o'clock, there was a commotion.  Burns was at her door moments later.

"Stella, I think you'd better come quickly."  She followed him from the room at once, making her way swiftly down the corridor toward Tom's office.

Papers were strewn everywhere.  Tom's desk, usually so neat and tidy, was in complete disarray.  The man himself seemed to be in a frenzy, tearing through his desk drawers and scattering office supplies across the room as he flung them away from him.  People were gathering around the door, eyes wide, too afraid to say anything or approach Tom.  Stella elbowed her way through the growing crowd and knelt down in front of him.

"Tom, stop," she said quietly, but firmly.  He seemed to pay no attention to her.  She grabbed his arms and held on tightly while he continued to struggle against her.  "Tom.  Tom, it's okay.  It's all right.  Just stop."  He seemed to come back to himself then, the crazed look leaving his eyes as he focused on her.  His flailing arms came to rest in his lap, and tears sprang up in his eyes.

"It's not fair, Stella," he sobbed, and she held him close to her.

"Shhh, I know.  I know," she stroked his hair and held him, rocking slightly.  "It's going to be okay.  We can make it through this."  Stella cast a look behind her at the door to Tom's office and glared at the people still gathered around it, watching their interaction.  Most of them quailed under her stare and returned to their work, one or two remaining transfixed for a minute before she raised her voice at them.  "This isn't some kind of show for your entertainment!  Back to your work!"

A chorus of muttered "Yes ma'am"s greeted this and finally, they were left without an audience.  Tom was still breathing heavily.

"I can't do this, Stella.  I can't."

"You want to go home?" she asked him, and felt more than saw him nod his head.  "Okay.  Give me five minutes, and we'll go."  Tom gulped and nodded again.

She walked slowly back to her office, rubbing at her forehead.  Quickly exiting out of the files she had been perusing, she shut down her laptop, and made her way to Burns' office.  He looked up the moment she entered.

"Everything all right?" he asked her.

"No.  I'm taking him home, Jim."

"That's probably best," he said.  "Do you know why he...?"  Burns left the question unfinished.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Well?"

"It's not mine to share right now, Jim.  I don't know that I've quite come to terms with it myself yet."

"You coming back once he's home?"

"No," Stella said, coming to a decision at once.  "He needs someone with him today, Jim.  He needs me."

"Right then.  You will let me know if there are any developments, won't you?

"Yes sir.  Excuse me, sir."  Burns nodded and she left his office, going quickly back to Tom's.  He sat almost unnaturally still now, head down, looking utterly defeated.  "Ready?" she asked him.

"Mm," was all he said in response.  Stella took hold of the handles on his chair and began pushing him toward the exit.  People came to their doors and didn't even try to hide the fact they were staring as they passed.  Stella couldn't even find it in herself to glare back at them.  She felt emotionally drained, and as bad as she was feeling, she knew Tom felt worse.

Getting him in the car was trickier now.  Stella wasn't sure how much the nerve damage was affecting his non-injured leg, but Tom seemed more off balance than he had before.  He let her hold him steady as he stood to make the transfer and nearly collapsed back into the car.  He made no move to reposition himself so that he was fully in the car, so Stella helped him settle in before going around to the driver's seat.

The minutes dragged on as they drew nearer to his flat, the air thick with the silence between them, but Stella dared not break it.  He would talk when he was ready she knew.  Once they were parked on the street outside his flat, Stella went around to help him back into the chair.  Tom clung onto her as she helped him stand and then lowered him carefully back to a sitting position.

Once inside, she hesitated a moment before wheeling him into his bedroom.  She sat down on the bed across from him, and took his hands in hers, squeezing gently.  "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, her voice hardly above a whisper.  He shook his head.  "Do you want to have a lie down, rest for awhile?"  A nod.  "Okay."

Once again, she helped him stand and move closer to his bed.  Once he was lying down, eyes open, staring at nothing, she said, "Let me know if you need anything."  She bent to kiss his cheek and left him alone, pulling the door almost to.  Then Stella went straight to her bedroom, put her head in her hands and finally let herself cry.

Her diary was on the bedside table.  She pulled it toward her, opened it, and began to write, scribbling furiously across the page, her pen making deep indentations as she went.  She poured out all of her anger, her hurt, her frustration until she felt utterly spent.  Then she went into the kitchen, and made herself a cup of tea.  She looked in on Tom, and he seemed to be sleeping.  She knew the morning must have taken a lot out of him.  She'd seen people in custody escalate to the kind of crisis mode Tom had, and it was always followed by a period of de-escalation and burn out.  Content that Tom would be out for awhile, she went back to the kitchen table and sat, her hands wrapped around her mug.

She had counseled so many victims of violent crime, had helped them to see that life could go on afterwards, but now she felt at a complete loss.  It was so hard being this close, and she never wanted to feel this way again.  Yet it gave her a whole new insight into what those people had gone through, a better appreciation for what it took for them to go on with their lives afterwards.

Her mobile buzzed in her pocket.  At first, Stella thought it was one of her alarms, but the buzzing was insistent.  Pulling it out and glancing at it, she immediately recognized Reed's number.

"Reed?" she answered, more a question than an acknowledgement.

"Stella," the other woman replied.  "I heard about what happened.  How is he?  How are _you_?

"He's...I'm...I'm," Stella struggled to continue.  She felt herself on the verge of tears once again.  "I don't know, Reed.  I just don't know," she almost whispered.

"Where are you?" Reed asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Tom's," Stella answered.

"You took him home.  That's good."  Stella didn't answer.  She just sat there, clinging to her mobile, as if Reed's voice would ground her somehow.  "Stella?" Reed asked after several long moments of silence.

"I'm here," she said.

"What do you need?  What can I do for you?"

"Could you come here?" Stella asked in a very small voice.  "I just, I need someone to talk to, someone who knows us both professionally.  I'd call a neighbor, but..."

"But it wouldn't be the same," Reed finished for her.  "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Thank you."

"I told you, Stella.  Anything you need, all you have to do is ask."

"Reed?"

"Yes, Stella?"

"Would you stay on the line with me, until you get here?"

"Of course."

The next quarter of an hour passed with the two women exchanging brief reassurances that they were still there, and finally, Reed said, "I'm here, Stella.  I'm outside Tom's flat.  Come let me in?"

Stella made a noise of assent, and ended the call before getting to her feet and hurrying to the door.  As soon as she opened it, Reed was coming inside, and wrapping her arms around Stella, and she couldn't hold the tears back any longer.  She clutched at Reed and sobbed.  It seemed to take forever, but eventually, Stella's breathing evened out, and she pulled away from Reed.

"I'm sorry," Stella said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.  "I don't know why I'm so broken up about this."

"I think I do," Reed told her, reaching out to clasp Stella's upper arm.  She steered her to the couch and sat beside her, arm around her shoulders.

"I've seen plenty of people hurt, plenty of people dead.  It's never hit me this hard before," Stella muttered, then she looked directly at Reed, meeting the other woman's steady gaze.  "Why does it hurt so much, Reed?"

"Because you love him, don't you?"

"I..." Stella began.  She wanted to say that it wasn't really love, just infatuation.  It couldn't really be love, could it?  Of course, she and Tom had both said the words, but had either of them really meant it?  Had they known what they were saying?  But now, with Reed here, making Stella come to terms with her deepest feelings, it made sense.  She'd never felt like this about anyone else being hurt or killed because she'd never loved anyone else as much as she loved Tom.  "I do, Reed.  I love him so much," she admitted.  It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her chest at the admission.  "And I can't bear to see him hurting like this."

"What happened?"

"You told me you heard," Stella said, not understanding Reed's question.

"No, I know I heard what happened this morning, but something must have happened to make Tom snap like that.  He's been so strong through this whole ordeal.  And he's usually so stoic.  What happened?"

"He..." Stella began, but stopped herself.  She'd told Burns it wasn't her story to tell, but she wanted to tell Reed.  Surely Tom wouldn't mind.  She turned her head toward Tom's room, half convinced she'd heard something from within.  Reed turned as well, and then Stella heard it again.  Muffled sobbing.  "I should check on him," she whispered.

"Of course, go on," Reed told her.

Stella walked quietly over to Tom's door.  She raised a hand, hesitating only a moment, and knocked softly.  "Tom?" she said, pushing the door open.  He was curled on his side in the bed, clutching the spare pillow to his mouth, tears streaming almost silently down his face.  Every few seconds he took a big gulp of air and swallowed down another wrenching sob.  Stella went to him, sitting on the edge of the bed and carding her fingers through his hair.

"Darling," she said, "It's all right.  I'm here.  It's going to be okay."

Tom turned to look at her, eyes full of more pain than Stella had ever seen him show, and that included when he had been off medication for the exploration of his wound.  "Will it, though?" he asked her.  "Will it ever be okay?  What if I never get it back?  What if I can never be in uniform again?  What if...oh God, Stella, what if this is the end of my career, and I can never work again?"

"It won't be," Stella told him.  "You'll get it back.  It's just going to take time."

"How can you know that for certain?" Tom asked.  "Nothing is certain in medicine.  They told me Mum had five years when we found out a year and a half ago, and she's gone.  My Da was a police officer too.  He took a bullet to the arm when I was five.  They told us he'd make a full recovery.  They told us he'd be fine.  They didn't tell us he'd be depressed.  They didn't tell us he'd be suicidal.  They didn't tell us he'd hang himself near on a year later.  They didn't know.  They can't know everything.  They can't know if I'll get anything back, even after the surgery.  And I can't lose it all, Stella.  I'm even going to lose you in the end, when you go home.  My job, it's all I'll have left.  And what if I can't even do that anymore?"

Stella clutched at his hand, and held it close to her heart.  "You're not going to lose me, I promise you that.  I couldn't bear to leave you, Tom.  I love you, so much."  She leaned down and kissed him, and her face was wet with more than just his tears.  She pulled away after several moments, their foreheads touching as she said, "Reed's here.  Can I tell her the latest, or do you want to?"

"You better do it," Tom told her.  "I don't think I can bring myself to say it, yet."

"Okay.  Do you need anything?  Do you want anything?"

"No," Tom said miserably.

"I can tell her to go, if you'd rather not have her here," Stella said, now feeling guilty about asking Reed over when it wasn't even her flat to begin with.

"No, it's fine.  I'll...I'll try to pull myself together and make an appearance."

"You don't have to, you know."

"I know, but I want to.  I don't want this morning to be the first thing people think of when they see me.  I need them to think I'm okay.  Even if I'm not.  Even if I never will be."

"Don't start talking like that again.  You've got to keep a positive attitude or the worst really will come to pass.  That's half the battle right there."

"Go on, Stella.  Don't want to keep Reed waiting.  I'll be out soon."

"Okay," Stella said, pressing one last kiss to his forehead before leaving his room and returning to the couch where Reed still sat.

"Everything okay?" Reed asked, taking in Stella's tear-streaked face.

"No," Stella said truthfully, "but it isn't the end of the world either.  We were talking about this morning, and what happened to make Tom...well, you know."

"Yeah."

"He..." Stella swallowed and tried again.  Tom had said it was okay to tell Reed.  "He's lost feeling in his leg.  I called his surgeon this morning, and he said they'd be able to operate to repair his nerve damage as soon as the cast comes off.  But Tom's not convinced it's going to help.  He's seen the limitations of medicine too many times before, and I don't think he's got much hope for his situation anymore."

"Stella, that's...that's awful.  But his doctors said they were hopeful?"

"Yeah, they're really optimistic about his chances at recovery, but some of it has to come from him, and if he doesn't shake this dark mood, I'm not sure what's going to happen, honestly."

"At least he's got you."

"Does he though?" Stella asked.  Regardless of what she'd told Tom just minutes ago, the reality of her situation was setting in.  She would inevitably be summoned back to the Met when the case against Spector was closed.  As much as she wanted that to happen for the sake of all of his victims and their families, she wasn't in a hurry for it to come to an end either.  "I'm going to have to go home to England at some point, aren't I?"

"I suppose," Reed said, looking thoughtful, "but if you truly love each other, I'm sure you'll find some way to make it work."

"Well, I don't want to think about that right now," Stella told her.

"Don't want to think about what?" came Tom's voice from the hallway.

"Nothing!" Stella said, a little too quickly.  "How about some tea?"

"I'd love some," Reed said, plastering a smile across her face.

"It's okay, you know," Tom said, wheeling toward the two women.  "You can let on that you've been talking about me.  I'd expect nothing less."

"Okay," Reed said, "Fine.  I'd heard about what happened this morning, Tom, and I called Stella to see how the two of you were."

"I'm okay," Tom said.  Stella threw him a look she hoped would communicate that he should cut the act and be honest with Reed.  "I'm frustrated, and a little apprehensive, but physically, I'm fine."

"You tore apart your office, Tom.  That's hardly what someone who's fine does."

 _Good,_  Stella thought, _she's going to make him tell her what's going on._

"Okay, you want the truth?  I'll give you the truth," Tom said heatedly, and Stella wasn't surprised to see Reed draw back on the couch.  "I'm bloody scared, all right?  I'm losing my body and I'm not sure if I'm going to get it back, and that terrifies me.  And people are going to mince their way around me now, because they don't want to hurt my feelings.  Well, let me tell you, I've been hurt enough by this whole situation that mincing around me isn't going to do shit all for my mood.  It's just going to make it worse, so stop it, the both of you!"  Stella winced.  "I came out here to make you see that what happened this morning doesn't define me, but if you're determined only to see that side of me, then fine.  That's what you're going to get.  Now, if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave.

"Of course, Tom," Reed said, rising at once.  "I hope you feel better soon.  Stella," she said, nodding in her direction, and without another word, Reed left.

As the door closed behind Reed, Stella said, "You didn't have to be so rude.  Reed's only trying to help."

"Well, you shouldn't be keeping secrets from me," Tom said.  "I'll take my tea in my room, I think," he said, taking the mug and nestling it between his good leg and his bad as he wheeled back to his room and slammed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you don't mind waiting a (potentially) long time for the continuation. I really don't know how much I'm going to be able to write in the coming weeks and months given certain situations in life, but I hope you come back when I have more written.


	17. Impasse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella and Tom argue. It seems there is no way for them to move forward together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sad that I haven't had time to write more of this story until now! But the muse struck me today and so here you have it.

Stella stared after Tom in shock for several moments. Of course, he had every right to be upset and he had been moody all day, but his outburst had taken her completely by surprise. She thought how she would feel if people had been talking about her behind her back. If she were honest with herself, after today, she knew they would be. Stella found that she was just as furious as Tom, but she knew she had a better handle on her emotions right now than he did. It was a lot to take in and adjust to, and even with all the warning they had had that the damage to Tom's nerves would inevitably cause the (hopefully temporary) loss of his use of his leg, it had come as a shock when it actually happened.

Stella couldn't rightfully fault Tom for his reaction, nor for his rampant mood swings, and she knew she was in the wrong as well. She stood and made her way slowly to his door. She raised her hand and wavered several seconds before knocking lightly. "Tom?" No answer. "Tom, please, let me explain." Still nothing. Stella tried the door handle. It was locked. Stella's heart sank. "Please, Tom, don't shut me out. I'm sorry if we upset you, and I'm sorry if I overstepped in inviting Reed here without asking you first. I really should have. I just... I needed to talk to someone, and you didn't seem up to talking. I know this is frightening for you. It's scaring me too. As much as I don't want to admit it, you might be right. Medicine can't fix everything. But you have to know that you'll get through this. Everything may not work out exactly like we want it to, but we'll make it through this, and we'll be better for it. We'll be stronger for it." Stella took a breath before trying the handle again. Still locked. "I'll be just down the hall if you need anything."

She stood outside his door for a few more moments, then hung her head and shuffled back to her room. Stella was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. She could feel a tension headache building behind her eyes and pinched at the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off the worst of it. She collapsed on top of the bed and shielded her eyes from the light peeking in through the curtained window and soon she was fast asleep.

When she woke to the buzzing of her mobile with the reminder for Tom's evening medication, it was dark in her room. Stella sat on the side of her bed for a long time before getting up. She went out to the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, and was surprised to find Tom sitting at the table, reading one of his reports. She didn't want to draw attention to herself, but didn't want to startle him either, so she cleared her throat softly before moving into his line of sight. Tom kept his eyes resolutely on the report, not even acknowledging her presence. Stella supposed she deserved that, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

She busied herself with the kettle, making yet another pot of tea. Why was it that tea seemed to be the go-to solution for every problem? It wouldn't and couldn't change anything and it very rarely actually solved anything. And yet, whenever someone was sad, make a cup of tea. Disappointed? Make a cup of tea. Angry? Make a cup of tea. It seemed ridiculous to Stella, but she couldn't keep herself from doing it now. Old habits, she supposed.

"Have you eaten?" she asked Tom, her voice barely above a whisper. He merely grunted in response, and Stella saw no evidence that he had, so she put together a simple meat and cheese plate for each of them and set his on the table at Tom's elbow. "Mind if I join you?" she asked, a little more confidently this time. A grunt again. Stella took that as permission to take the seat across from him. She ate slowly, and he picked at his food absent-mindedly. The kettle whistled and Stella set about preparing the cups before bringing them over along with Tom's medication. He ignored her, but opened his pill counter and tossed back the pills almost at once. He set the report in his lap and pushed back from the table, returning to his room without a word. Stella heard the lock click and thought miserably that Tom had to come 'round, but he had to do it in his own time, and she wouldn't force him.

Stella passed a fitful night.  They'd only spent three nights together, five if she counted the nights she'd stayed with him in hospital, but it seemed she had grown accustomed to his presence close beside her as she slept.  Without Tom near, Stella found little comfort.  She rose early and made her way to the kitchen.  She found Tom there already once again.  He was dressed in pajamas and engrossed in the morning paper.  Or so it seemed.  Perhaps he was ignoring her still.  This had to stop, and soon.

"You coming into work today?" she asked him very quietly.

"Burns needs the report," he responded without looking up at her.  At least he was speaking to her again.

"I could take it in, if..."

"If what?" Tom asked, a challenge in his voice, and he finally looked at her.  Well, glared would be a more accurate description, Stella thought.

"Nothing," Stella said now.  "I just thought, after everything that happened yesterday, you might--"

"Want to hide from everyone?" Tom interrupted her.  "Want to keep them from feeling sorry for me?  Want to stay here and wallow in my own misery?"

"I didn't mean--" Stella tried, but Tom cut her off again.

"Or maybe you thought I wouldn't be able to ready myself in time.  That I really am a helpless cripple now.  You're probably going to leave me and never look back.  I'm nothing to you now.  And you don't even have the decency to end it properly."

"Tom," Stella said, gently laying a hand on his arm across the table.  He jerked away from her.

"I'll be ready in a half hour," he said, as he wheeled toward his bedroom.  Stella watched him go with a lump in her throat.

She wondered how Tom could think any of these things.  How could he think her so unfeeling, especially when she had reassured him time after time that she would stay with him through whatever came?  She had to make him see that was still true.  She needed him to understand that she would never think of him as useless.  But Tom seemed so deeply lost in his depression and anger that he wouldn't be letting her in any time soon.

She knew that undoubtedly there were people in the department who would think exactly along the lines Tom had expressed, but she also knew he'd prove them wrong.  He had to.  And if Tom couldn't change their minds, Stella thought she could be quite persuasive.

The ride to headquarters was entirely silent.  Tom stared out the window at the gray Belfast sky and Stella kept her eyes on the road, even as her thoughts churned.  She hoped today would be a better day, and tried to think of ways to deflect negative attention from reaching Tom.  She needed him to bounce back, to dig himself out of the rut he seemed to find himself in, to come back to her, to open up once more.  Right now, he was a sealed case record and she wanted access again.

Tom maintained his stony silence even as Stella helped him transfer back to the chair once they arrived.  He wheeled himself into the building without a backward glance at her.  Stella tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach as she followed slowly.  She glanced in at Burns' office as she passed and saw Tom handing over the report.  She continued immediately to her office, not wanting to seem nosy, and also wanting to bury herself in her work, so she wouldn't have to think about the difficulties she was coming up against with Tom.

"You're back."  Dani's voice startled Stella out of her concentration.

"Yes," she replied.

"How's Anderson doing?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Stella retorted.  "I'm not Tom.  I don't know.  Why don't you go ask him yourself?"  She hadn't meant to get angry over the simple question, but with things as they were between them, Stella felt a strong need to put him back in control of his life.  It started with not answering for him.  Making others see that he was just as capable of responding to them as she was.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Dani said now.  "It's just, I know you've taken it on to look after him at home, and what with yesterday...that can't have been easy, for him or for you."  Stella could feel a stress headache starting to build behind her eyes again.  Closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose once more, she heard Dani as if from a great distance.  "Are you quite well, ma'am?  Is there anything I can do?"  Stella was mortified to find herself close to tears.  She shook her head.  She heard Dani walk into her office and felt her put her hand on her shoulder.  "Do you want to talk about it, ma'am?"

"No," Stella cried, a few tears escaping and running down her cheeks, "I just want to focus on the case and not have to think about it, or him, or what the future might hold."

"Sounds like you need a girls night."

"A what?" Stella asked, feeling a little trepidation seep into her despair.

"A girls night," Dani repeated.  "No significant others allowed.  Just a night to be with your friends to talk and drink and have a good time."

"I can't do that, Dani.  He needs me, even if he can hardly stand the sight of me right now.  Not to mention, I don't really have any friends here."

"Nonsense.  You've got Reed, and Hagstrom, and McNally...and me."

"Colleagues, little more," Stella told her, "though I'm probably closest to you and Reed."

"So we keep it to three, no problem."

"What about Tom, though?"

"You said he didn't want to see you, right?"

"He probably wishes I was out of his life forever," Stella said miserably.

"I'm sure that's not true," Dani said, rubbing her arm comfortingly, "but perhaps a night apart would be best.  Could you call in a neighbor to help him?"

"Probably..." Stella said now, mulling it over.

"See what you can do, I'll talk with Reed, and maybe some of the lads around here too.  See if we can't get you a night off."

"Thanks, Dani," Stella said, and she meant it.

Stella pulled out her mobile once Dani had left and she had composed herself once more.  She rang Mary, who picked up on the second ring.

"Stella?"  The other woman seemed on edge at once, and Stella thought back to the last time they had spoken, when Mary had taken Tom to hospital.

"Hi Mary, I...I need a favor."

"Anything, Stella, I told you."

"I know, but I hate to ask.  I..."  Stella swallowed hard and tried again.  "I need a night away.  Would it be possible for you or some of the other neighbors to stay with Tom tonight?"

"Oh, Stella, of course.  You've been running yourself ragged, I'm sure.  I'll get on the phone to everyone and we'll get it all settled.  Don't you worry."

Stella's eyes filled with tears once more, and she let emotion fill her voice as she said, "I really appreciate it, Mary.  It's been so hard these last few days."

"Don't you fret, Stella.  He'll be fine.  I'll see to it."

"Thank you," Stella said, her voice hardly above a whisper.

"Don't mention it," Mary said, and the call disconnected.

Stella thought she would take lunch at her desk that afternoon, but she still felt compelled to see that Tom had his midday medication.  When she stopped at his office door the room was unoccupied, so she made her way to the break room.  Tom was engaged in conversation with Dani's partner, and when Stella cleared her throat, both men looked up at her.  Tom immediately looked away when he realized who it was.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, her chest feeling tight at Tom's seeming indifference.  "I was just wondering if Tom's had his medication."

Tom shook the pill counter at her and she couldn't hear any pills rattling inside.  Then Dani's partner spoke up.

"About the other thing, ma'am?  With Ferrington?"  Tom was ignoring them, so the other man tipped his head in Tom's direction.  "I'll handle transportation."

"Thank you," Stella said sincerely.  She collected her lunch and returned to her office.  Tom did not look up, and she did not look back.

Dani took Stella straight to the pub after work, and Stella was halfway through her second glass of wine when Reed walked over to their table.

"What's going on, Stella?"

"Tom and I had a fight," Stella said, feeling miserable.  "He doesn't want my help.  He doesn't want to see me.  He's--"

"He's depressed, Stella.  He doesn’t know what he wants."  A waiter came over to their table and Reed ordered a glass of Pinot Noir before continuing.  "He's not alone tonight, is he?"

"No, Mary got a group of neighbors together to take care of him, and Dani's partner got him home."

"Maybe you just need some time apart.  You've been in each other's laps for weeks now."

"Maybe.  You didn't see him, though, Reed.  After you left, he got so angry."

"He has a right to be angry, if you ask me," Reed said now.  "He's had so much taken from him, he feels like he's going to lose more and he doesn't know how much he'll get back in the end.  Of course he's going to be angry about the situation."

"I know," Stella said, tears perilously close to the surface again.  "I just thought I would have learned my lesson by now.  Especially with men from the PSNI."

"Whatever do you mean?" Dani asked her.

"Burns and I were together for a time, years ago.  It was Burns who suggested I come here to work the murder investigation in the first place."

"But Burns is married," Dani said, confused.

"And he was then, as well.  He was having an affair with me.  It broke my heart when he told me, and I swore I'd never get involved with another colleague.  At least, not seriously.  Then there was Tom, and everything changed.  I thought this time would be different.  Tom wasn't taken.  Things could be different with him."  Stella looked morosely into her wine glass before picking it up and draining it in one.  "I was such a mess after Burns, I left and went back to England.  With Tom it would be so much worse if it came to that."

"You aren't leaving, are you?" Reed said, and the horror in her voice matched the look on Dani's face.

"I don't want to, but I don't know what other choice I'll have if Tom doesn't want me back.  I always told him, I'd stay as long as he wanted.  If that's now, so be it.  And the case is nearly wrapped up.  You lot can finish it off, no problem."

"You can't be serious!" Dani exclaimed now.  "You'd leave now, before Tom's back on his feet?"

"Before the doctors know if they can successfully repair his nerve damage?" Reed put in.

"I can't stay if he doesn't want me anymore.  My heart can't take it.  I can't do it again."

"Have you told Tom all of this?" Dani said now, her voice hardly audible over the crowd in the pub.

"He doesn't want to see me.  And I'm not sure talking about my past with Burns is going to help the situation at all.  It would just make it worse."

"Perhaps, but you should talk to him about this.  Let him know where you're coming from, where you stand."

"Right now, it's his move," Stella said.  "I've been nothing but understanding and supportive and caring, but if he wants me gone, that's his business.  If he wants me back, he needs to say so."

"That's as may be," Dani said now, You just need to wait until both of you are in a more rational state of mind and talk it through."

"What were your plans for tonight?" Reed asked, addressing both Dani and Stella.

"I'm most certainly not going back to Tom's tonight," Stella said, "I don't want the neighbors to talk if they see me come in pissed off my arse.  And I'm not planning for this to be my last glass, either," she said, catching a passing waiter by the arm.  "Another Chardonnay, if you please."

"Right away, mum," the waiter responded and bustled off to the bar.

"Dani?" Reed said now. 

Dani gave Stella an appraising look before responding.  "Well, I thought we'd have some drinks here, but after that, I was going to leave it up to Stella."

"Well, if I'm not going back to Tom's, and I'm not," Stella said, her words already beginning to become slurred, "I'll need to find someplace to stay tonight, and I don't particularly fancy sleeping on a cot behind my desk at headquarters again."

"You can stay with me," Dani said now.  "I don't think Reed's girls need to see you in this state either."

"I'd prefer it if they didn't, yes," Reed said.  "Speaking of which, I should probably get home.  They'll be expecting me before ten."

"Go on, then," Dani said, "We'll be fine, won't we Stella?"

"More than fine," Stella said, the wine starting to take effect.  Already, she could hardly remember why she had been so miserable all day.  She remembered little else after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I can see the end coming closer and closer now, and as much as I don't want it to end, the sense of accomplishment is going to feel so good. I've never written a fic this long before, and this is going to be the longest story, fic or original, I've written in several years, if not ever before now.
> 
> I'll write again when I can. My students are keeping me really busy this year, though, both in good ways and bad.


	18. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella returns to Tom, and Tom ends up back in hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it has taken me over 6 months to get this chapter up. My students took most of my time last school year, and I had very little time for myself. I'm hoping to change that this coming year, even though I have the same number of students I did last year. And then I went to Europe for a month right after the school year ended, so there was that.
> 
>  **PLEASE NOTE: This chapter contains a scene that could be interpreted as domestic violence, and it is discussed as such in the chapter. If this is a trigger for you, please skip this chapter.**
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me. I'm sorry I'm so bad at regular updates. I'm hoping to get at least one more chapter up before I have to go back to work in August.

Stella woke the next morning with her head pounding. After several moments, she realized she was not in her bed at Tom's and hurriedly threw the covers off of herself, trying to get her bearings. It only made her head throb even more. Slowly, the memory of the previous night came back to her. Stella sat on the edge of the strange bed, head in her hands, trying to make sense of it all. Then she saw a pair of slippered feet, and looked up to see Dani standing in front of her with a steaming mug.

"Tea?" Dani said quietly. "It might help with that hangover." Stella groaned and accepted the mug. The tea was strong and black and it helped her focus enough to formulate a question.

"What happened after the pub?"

"I brought you here, and put you to bed," Dani said simply.

"Where's 'here'?"

"My flat."

"Did I take your bed?" Stella asked now.

"Yes, ma'am."

Stella groaned again. "I didn't mean to be a nuisance. I would gladly have taken the couch," she said, peering around Dani and seeing a makeshift bed laid out on the couch in her small sitting room.

"It was no trouble ma'am."

"Dani, there's no need to keep calling me that. We're not at work."

"Sorry," Dani said now, looking slightly sheepish. "Just a habit. Are...are you feeling any better this morning, apart from the hangover?"

Stella thought for a moment. Her argument with Tom seemed entirely childish now. But would he see it that way? "I suppose, but it's still down to him to make the first move. I won't force myself into his company if he doesn't want me there."

Stella's mobile buzzed on the side table, and she picked it up at once. It was a text from Mary, or rather, several texts beginning about 11:00 the previous night:

23:00: Stella, are you coming back tonight?

23:15: I guess not. I'm going to stay over, to make sure he's OK. Call me when you can.

7:00: Stella, I'm starting to get really worried. Please call ASAP.

7:30: Just text so I know you're okay.

8:00: Tom's awake and he's really starting to freak out. Please call me when you get this.

8:05: I'm going to call emergency services if I don't hear from you soon...

Stella felt her heart clench. Why would Mary need to call Emergency Services? She glanced at the current time on her phone. 8:10. She dialed Mary's number as quickly as she could.

"Stella?!"

"Mary, what's wrong?"

"Oh, thank God. You need to get back here as quick as you can."

"Mary," Stella repeated. "What's wrong?"

"Tom's in a right state. He keeps saying you've left him for good. It doesn't matter what I tell him otherwise, he's convinced you went back to England and left him here all alone." There was a pause and Stella struggled to take in all of this information. Then, Mary said, "You _didn't_ go back to England, did you?" She sounded horrified.

"No!" Stella reassured her at once. "No, I just...I had a little too much to drink last night and one of the girls from work let me stay at her place. I'm fine. Everything's going to be okay. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Hurry. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep Tom from doing something rash."

Stella ended the call and got to her feet at once. "I have to go, Dani. Tom..." she trailed off but Dani just gave her an understanding look.

"It's fine. Do you need a ride?"

Stella thought for a moment. She couldn't remember if they'd driven Tom's car here the night before.

"Yes," she said, not wanting to waste any more time.

"Let's go then."

Dani drove as quickly as she could back toward headquarters and on towards Tom's street. It wasn't far, but Stella couldn't keep her heart from racing. Tom's father had killed himself when he couldn't cope anymore. What if Tom tried to do the same? She couldn't lose him. She couldn't.

The two women burst through the door of Tom's flat and found Mary near hysterical outside Tom's closed bedroom door. They heard what sounded like books being hurled at walls and the crash of something breaking as it hit the floor.

"He's locked himself in!" Mary said desperately, and Dani moved her gently away from the door before ramming it with her shoulder. It took three tries before the door gave way and Stella was in the room immediately, going over to Tom and grabbing his arms. He fought violently against her, not realizing who she was.

"Tom, stop! It's me!" Stella cried, but Tom wasn't listening to her. Stella looked into his eyes as he struggled against her, and she could tell he wasn't seeing what was right in front of him. Suddenly, he flailed his right arm out, his fist catching Stella's jaw, and she fell to the floor beside him. Dani rushed to Stella's side and between the two of them they were able to keep Tom mostly immobile.

"Call 999!" Stella shouted toward Mary, who was still standing in the doorway, transfixed by the scene before her. "Ambulance. He needs to be sedated, fast!"

Mary seemed to jolt awake and pulled out her mobile at once and started dialing. Tom continued to struggle against Dani and Stella. She could feel her chin throbbing where he had hit her, and could taste blood in her mouth. She'd never thought Tom could hurt her like that. But then again, he wasn't in his right mind at the moment.

There were tears in her eyes, but Stella didn't realize she was actually crying until she tried to reason with Tom again, and her voice came out sounding like a wounded animal.

"Please, Tom. It's me. I'm here. It's going to be all right. Please, just stop!"

There was the sound of a siren outside, and then men in emergency uniform pushed their way into the room. Quickly they inserted a needle in Tom's uninjured thigh and injected him with something. Tom stilled almost at once, and Stella and Dani moved away, Dani holding Stella around the waist and guiding her to the bed to sit down. She crumpled into Dani's embrace, sobbing. One of the uniformed men was checking Tom's vitals. The other came over to Stella.

"Are you all right, mum?" he asked her, seeing the thin trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. Stella only sobbed harder and shook her head. Dani's arms tightened around her. "What happened?" he said, now addressing Dani.

"We're not entirely sure," she admitted. "Stella was...out last night, and Mary was trying to get hold of her this morning. When we got here, he'd locked himself in here, and was throwing things across the room."

"What's his name?" the man in uniform asked, gently.

"Tom," Stella forced out between sobs.

"Has Tom ever done anything like this before?"

Stella wiped her eyes and gulped down several breaths before answering. "He had a similar episode at work on Thursday, but he came out of that one. I was able to calm him down pretty quickly. This time, it was so much worse. It was like he couldn't even see me. Is he going to be okay?"

"We've given him a fast acting Valium injection. We'll need to take him to hospital to monitor his reaction to it, but he should be fine, mum."

"Can I ride with you?"

"Of course, mum."

"Stella," she told him.

"Stella," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "You should probably get checked out yourself."

"Okay."

"I'll drop the car by the hospital in a little bit," Dani told her, giving her one last comforting squeeze, as the men loaded Tom and Stella into the ambulance a few minutes later.

"Thank you," Stella said, "Thank you for everything, Dani."

"Don't mention it. You just take care of yourself and Tom, and come back to us when you can."

Tom had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply and Stella thought back to the times she had watched him sleep when he had been in hospital previously. He looked so peaceful. She only hoped he would remain that way once he woke.

Once they were at the hospital, Tom was carted off to the trauma ward once more, and Stella was taken to A&E where a young doctor in a white lab coat examined her jaw.

"Nothing broken," he said after a few pokes and prods, "but that's going to have a nasty looking bruise. What happened?"

"I got on the wrong side of a...a man who's lost far too much already, and he couldn't bear to lose me too."

"Your husband do this to you?" the doctor asked now.

"No, he's not my husband."

"Your boyfriend, then?"

"Yes," Stella admitted, "but it's not what you think. He didn't know what he was doing, I'm sure of it."

"I'm required to report all incidents of domestic abuse to the police," the doctor said now, looking like he wanted to edge out of the room and call them up at once.

"I _am_ the police," Stella said now, getting frustrated with the doctor. "There was another officer present when it happened, as well. You can talk to her, if you like. Danielle Ferrington, PSNI."

"All right," the doctor said now, "but don't think I won't be calling her."

"I'd expect nothing less. Thank you, doctor."

Stella made her way up to the now very familiar trauma ward. She inquired after Tom at the nurse's station and was shown to his bedside. He was still unconscious.

"Shouldn't he be coming 'round by now?" she asked the nurse.

"Some take longer than others," the nurse said. "No need to worry just yet. We've got him on a bunch of monitors, so if anything goes wrong we'll be able to step in and take care of it. Right now, he's fine though, mum."

 _Except for the fact he believes I left him,_ Stella thought.

"Looks like the two of you have been through the wringer," the nurse said now, eyeing the bandaging on Stella's face.

"You could say that," Stella admitted, taking Tom's hand in hers and squeezing. She wished he knew she was there. It had been frightening to see him so unaware of his surroundings back at his flat. "How much will he remember of what happened before?"

"Impossible to say, mum. We'll just have to see when he wakes."

Stella nodded to the nurse who smiled kindly back at her before returning to the nurses' station.

Stella's eyes had glazed over and she was staring into space when, after what seemed like ages, Tom's eyelids fluttered and he gripped her hand back briefly before opening his eyes and groaning.

"Wha' happened?" he slurred out.

Stella couldn't answer him, bursting into tears when he spoke. He freed his hand from her grasp and reached up to brush the tears away with his thumb.

"You came back," he said now, and he sounded much more aware and blessedly coherent. "What's wrong?"

"I thought I lost you," Stella gulped out.

Tom's hand moved to the bandage on Stella's jaw. "Who did this to you?" he asked.

"You don't remember..." Stella said, both gutted and relieved at the same time. Tom furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Don't remember what?"

"It's not important," Stella said, and she didn't want it to be.

"No. Tell me."

"What's the last thing you can remember?" she asked him instead. Tom thought for a moment.

"I remember...we argued. I was really angry. And then we went to work, but you didn't come home. Oh God, Stella, was it me? Did I do this to you?" Stella sobbed harder, almost melting into his touch, but not wanting to at the same time. "I'm so sorry, Stella. I don't know what came over me."

"You thought you were losing me, and you reacted as if you were going to fight off anyone who was going to take me from you, including me. But Tom, I've told you. I'm not going to leave you. I couldn't leave you without leaving a piece of my heart behind. I love you." The last words came out as little more than a whisper. She took a deep breath and continued, "I won't deny, I thought about it. I considered it last night, but that was probably the wine doing most of the thinking. I just couldn't see you last night. I didn't want you to think ill of me when we were already on such rocky ground." The monitor of Tom's heart rate started beeping as his pulse quickened at her words, and Tom glanced around, seeming to realize he was back in hospital for the first time since he had awoken.

"Why am I back here?" he asked, and the devastation in his tone broke Stella all over again.

"After I didn't come home last night, you went a little out of your head. You...you got violent, and I couldn't get you to come out of it. EMS had to sedate you to get you to calm down. They're just keeping you here to monitor your body's reaction to the sedation.

"I don't want to be here, Stella," Tom said now, his eyes going wide, and the beeping on the heart monitor accelerated. "I can't be here. I want to go home. Please, take me home."

"I can't, love. Not until they clear you."

"Then get a bloody doctor in here to clear me!" he exclaimed. "I can't stay here. I just...I can't...too many bad memories. I can't do it." He sounded so desperate, that Stella leaned down to kiss him before smoothing his tangle of hair back from his face with reassurances she'd find someone straight away.

Stella alerted the nurses' station, somewhat surprised that the heart monitor hadn't alerted them to something out of the ordinary already, and they told her they'd get a doctor in as soon as they could. Stella hoped she'd be able to keep Tom calm long enough for the doctor to clear him, but his anxiety seemed to have him on such high alert at the moment, she wasn't sure she'd manage it.

As soon as she was able she was back at Tom's side, stroking his head and murmuring words of comfort to him. It did little to calm Tom, and Stella worried he might have to be sedated again. It seemed to be taking an inordinately long time for a doctor to come check Tom, but when Stella saw Dr. Kelly enter the ward, she knew the reason for the delay.

"I had hoped I wouldn't be seeing you again this soon, Tom," the doctor said, smiling at him.

"Please, Doctor. I… I can't be here. Please say I can go back home," Tom pleaded with him.

"I'll be the judge of that. Ms. Gibson," Dr. Kelly said, looking her way for the first time since he came in, "you updated EMS and A&E on the situation when they brought the two of you in, and that information is now in Tom's chart. Is there anything you think needs to be added to what you already told them?"

Stella glanced at Tom apologetically before she spoke. "He's been pretty depressed since the last time we were here," she said, deliberately skirting around the topic of the wheelchair. "But his moods have been increasingly erratic in the last few days, ever since his nerve damage got to the point he couldn't feel his leg anymore. And he's been having panic attacks. It's been a bit frightening to be honest." Again, Stella gave Tom an apologetic look before threading their fingers together and squeezing his hand comfortingly. Dr. Kelly seemed to consider this carefully before responding.

"I'd like to order a psych consult before I discharge you, in that case, Tom. It may be a side effect of the medication we've got you on for the nerve pain, but I'd like to be sure. I'll get them down here as soon as I can. Try to rest." The surgeon smiled at Tom before leaving the ward. Tom huffed out a big breath.

"Why'd you have to tell him about the attacks?" he asked Stella.

"Because they're the reason we're here," she told him simply.

Tom sighed, "I know, but you know how much I hate being in hospital. Here especially." Stella knew he meant the trauma ward.

"I know," Stella said, "but the whole point of staying a bit longer today is to make it so you don't have to spend even longer here."

When the psych consult arrived, that doctor asked many questions, most of which Tom was able to answer. The doctor was surprised to hear that Tom had attempted to manage his pain with over the counter medication as well as his prescription drugs in the past month. Even when Stella and Tom explained to him about having to appear in court and the limitations that placed on continuing with his prescription, he rebuked them for mixing medications that could have had major contraindications. He explained that the type of medication Tom had been prescribed originally had side effects which had caused the wild fluctuations in Tom's mood. The doctor recommended changing Tom's medication to one which would be more targeted to his specific symptoms, but he warned that Stella would still need to keep a close eye on Tom for any out of the ordinary changes in temperament.

While this conversation was going on, Tom became increasingly fidgety and on edge. Stella didn't know which she wanted more: for the doctors to discharge Tom before he had a panic attack, or for Tom to suffer an attack while there, so the doctor could witness firsthand what Tom's attacks in particular looked like. She did her best to try to calm him, squeezing his hand and running her fingers through his hair, but by the time the doctor left to get Tom's new prescription sorted out, Tom was clammy and trembling, trying desperately to regulate his breathing. Stella felt as though her heart might break at the sight.

It didn't take long for the doctor to return with the new medication, but the process of disconnecting Tom from the monitors seemed to drag on and on. Tom's desire to be gone from hospital as soon as possible was making him want to rip the leads from his body, and it was not making the nurses' jobs of taking them out appropriately any easier. But finally Tom was free of the machines, and Dani had dropped off his car, and Stella was able to take him home.

Tom spent the rest of the day in bed, completely worn out from the strain of finding himself back in hospital. Stella lay beside him, their faces mere inches apart, watching him until he fell asleep once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is it I enjoy torturing these poor characters so? Well, actually, I don't enjoy it, but if it serves the story...
> 
> Like I said in the notes at the beginning, I'm hoping to have another chapter up before the middle of August, but no promises. I've got my birthday coming up at the end of this week, and beginning of August, I have to go see my own surgeon for a follow up appointment. No need to worry! I'm fine. I've been fine for a little over 11 years now. They just want to make sure I'm still actually fine, given that the surgery I had has the potential to fail years down the line...
> 
> Thanks again for coming back and reading! Hopefully it's not so long between chapters again!


	19. The Only Way to Go is Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella and Tom deal with the aftermath of Tom's breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, you all, I am so so so so SO sorry it has taken me this long to get this chapter written! Let's just say the 2016-2017 school year was not kind to me. I got a new job in September, and I'm actually starting a slightly different position at the same job on Wednesday, but it's a LOT less stressful and, here's hoping I can actually write in 2018!

Stella didn't know quite what to expect from Tom in the following few days. His latest attack seemed to have taken a lot out of him. Whereas previously he had bounced back within a day or even a few hours, this time was different. He spent the following day in bed, crying off and on. Stella stayed home with him, though her presence in his room often seemed to bring on a fresh round of tears from Tom, so, although it broke her heart to do so, she kept to her own room or the kitchen.

She kept up a conversation with Dani, Reed, and Mary via text. Dani had let Stella know that the A&E doctor had contacted the PSNI regarding Stella's injuries, and she had allayed his concerns. Stella's face was quite the worse for wear, and she was actually glad to stay home with Tom because it meant the rest of the department didn't have to see her like this and ask her about what had happened, or worse, she thought, speculate about how it had happened.

Mary was acting as liaison to the neighbors, keeping them up to date on what was happening, but also keeping them away from the flat. Stella appreciated that Mary understood the reticence she felt about having others over at the moment, even if it went against cultural norms.

Reed was Stella's sounding board. She had heard what had happened after their girls night the following day, and had texted Stella as soon as she and Tom had arrived back at his flat. Stella had called her the next day and ended up sobbing on the line with her for at least an hour. Reed had been wonderful about it, letting Stella get things off her chest and offering comfort where she could. Neither of them wanted to chance having Reed come over again, but it was nevertheless good for them to speak.

Stella was doing her best to keep Tom and herself fed, and to ensure that Tom got his new medication, but it was difficult with him keeping to his room most of the time. She knew part of the reason he did was so he didn't have to face the reality of what he had done to her, even if he hadn't known he was doing it at the time. Stella's jaw was swollen and sore, and the entire right side of her face was black and blue. When they did eat together, they barely met each other's gaze. She knew they'd have to face this sooner rather than later, but Stella didn't want to push Tom right now when he was still adjusting to his new normal.

The new medication Tom had been prescribed seemed to be helping, though it was hard to say just how much given that Tom couldn't feel his leg at the moment. Over the next few days his moods slowly improved. A week after the Incident, as Stella had started calling it, he surprised her when he joined her in the sitting room and took her hand. She looked up from her book, and saw his troubled expression.

"Stella," he said quietly, "we need to talk about it." Now it was Stella's turn to cry, and he reached for her, seeming to want to wipe away her tears, his hand trembling. Stella dropped to her knees on the floor in front of his chair so he could reach her better, desperate for his touch. When his fingers brushed her bruised face, she closed her eyes and shuddered slightly. He made to draw his hand back, but she reached for him and made him cup her cheek again. The two of them sat in silence for awhile, neither sure quite what to say. Finally, Tom spoke. "I am so sorry, Stella. Please believe me when I say I would never have done this in my right mind."

"I know," Stella whispered back. "I don't blame you, Tom. I've just missed you so much."

"I don't know why I'm like this," Tom said now, looking away.

"Like what?" she asked.

Tom took a moment to answer. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Out of sorts."

"It's understandable," she reassured him. "So much is changing for you, so quickly. It must be hard to keep up."

Tom shook his head. "No. I've always led a pretty fast-paced life. I don't think it's that. I just, haven't been feeling myself for awhile now."

"How so?"

"I feel like, since the shooting, I've been short with people I wouldn't usually be short with, and emotional when I shouldn't be. It's like my feelings have been intensified about five hundred percent. There are times I can hardly stand to be me, when I want to crawl out of my own skin."

"You want to escape being you? Because of what happened?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I never felt like this before I was shot. I knew there was the possibility of getting hurt, even getting killed, and I almost looked forward to that, to facing that danger, to keeping it from happening to other people. If I really dig deep into myself, that feeling is still there. It just feels like it's gotten buried, like I'm not really me anymore."

"It's not your fault. The psychiatrist at the hospital said it could be because of the drugs you'd been on. Are you starting to feel a little bit better at least?" Stella asked him.

"Yeah," Tom said now, but he didn't sound very convincing. "I'm just glad you're here, Stella. I don't know what I would have done without you, and you could have left so many times now. I've pushed you away so much. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave."

Stella cupped his face in both of her hands and looked up at him from her spot on the floor. "Hey, don't talk like that," she told him. "It takes a lot more than a bruised face to scare me away. I love you, Tom." She wrapped her arms around him, and felt him embrace her as well. "I'm going to stay. I want to see you back on your feet, literally as well as figuratively."

"And if you're recalled to London before that happens?" Tom asked, and Stella felt her stomach drop. There it was again. The shadow of the possibility of separation. She put on a brave face before answering him.

"Doesn't mean I can never come back."

Tom smiled weakly at her. "I love you too, you know," he said. "Stay with me tonight. Please."

"Of course," Stella told him, squeezing his hand in hers. "Just let me finish a few things and I'll be right there." She got to her feet, still holding Tom's hand, and he squeezed hers back before wheeling toward his bedroom.

"Don't be too long," he said.

"I should be finished in no time," she reassured him.

Stella grabbed her mobile from her room and hurriedly sent texts to Dani and Reed: Breakthrough! Now the only way to go is up. She received a smile from Reed and a thumbs up from Dani in response. Smiling to herself, Stella shut her phone off and made her way to Tom's bedroom.

When she opened the door, she found him still in his chair, but waiting for her. As a matter of fact, there were two chairs in the flat now. He'd needed to borrow one from hospital to go home in, having come in by ambulance, and they hadn't left the flat since. They'd need to return the extra chair soon. Stella refocused her thoughts on the man before her. He hadn't moved since she came in.

"Do you need any help?" she asked him.

He seemed to come back to himself as he said, "Sorry, just thinking. I'm okay, I think, once I'm closer to the bed." He wheeled toward it, and half fell, half flopped over onto it. Stella thought back to when she'd seen him on crutches the first time in hospital and he'd been so self-conscious about settling in. Now he was so at ease about it, with her. It was nice, she thought, that he trusted her that much now. "Tada!" he said with a goofy grin on his face, and Stella laughed. She sat beside him on the bed and pulled him in for a kiss. He responded enthusiastically, leaning toward her and running his hands through her hair.

When they separated, Stella began to undress him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands across his well-defined chest. He let her remove his shirt before returning the favor, her shirt and bra joining his in a pool on the floor not long afterward. Next came her slacks, which he pushed down her hips, caressing her curves as he went. Tom's omnipresent track pants were a bit more of a process, but Stella made him feel just as loved as she peeled them off of him. He lay back against his pillow, while she hovered over him, straddling his legs.

"I love you so much," Tom told her. This time was different though. He felt nothing on his left side below the waist, and that made it difficult for him to get it up. They gave up after nearly an hour of trying, and Stella kissed him again.

"It's all right," she told him as he apologized over and over. "You mean more to me than a casual fuck. I love you, Tom. I do lust after you, but they are two very different things. If I only felt one, I wouldn't have stayed.

"Do you think I'll get that back in the end too?" he asked her now.

"That's a question for Dr. Kelly, and quite honestly, I think it's a conversation you should have with him in private. I don't care one way or the other. There are ways for a woman to get pleasure for herself that don't require fucking." She kissed him and lay down beside him. "It's enough for me, now, to be able to be close to you. Please don't shut me out again, Tom."

"You are too good to me," Tom said, yawning.

They fell asleep with their hands threaded together and woke peacefully the next morning, content to simply be close to one another. They continued this peaceful coexistence for a week before Stella felt Tom might be able to return to work. She was unwilling to leave him on his own, or even under the supervision of the neighbors, so she worked from the flat.

It was Burns calling that finally decided them on going back to Headquarters. Even if Tom had interviewed Tyler via video conference, the same could not be done for every interview, and the PSNI needed to get a move on with Spector. Tom was wary of having Stella lead the interview alone, and Stella still did not want to leave Tom on his own, so the only thing to do was for the two of them to return together.

The logistics of getting ready for the day were much more complicated now that Tom needed considerably more assistance to dress himself and to shower. Not that Stella was complaining, as it gave her the chance to be close to him with skin on skin contact, which they both craved, even if they couldn't find sexual release together. It did lead to some distractions, however, which meant it took more than twice as long.

They had spent long hours together developing Stella's strategy for the interview and going over questions together. Tom wanted to be in the room with her, but Stella thought that would seem too much as if he were trying to protect her. "I love that you want to keep me safe, Tom, but I think having you there would do just the opposite. I'd be too worried about what might happen to you, that I'd be more concerned with your safety than with my own." In the end, Tom agreed to stay in the adjoining room, while Burns went in with Stella.

Paul Spector looked slightly the worse for wear having been in prison for the last two months, but Stella couldn't find much sympathy for his situation. His hair had begun to go gray, and his beard and mustache were unkempt, but it didn't look as if he had been wanting for food or sleep, or for that matter exercise, so she couldn't feel too badly for him. Stella used some of the information she had gained from Rose Stagg to delve deeper into Spector's past. The decision was ultimately made to look into his experiences at the various care homes he himself had disclosed to the police prior to Rose's kidnapping. There would be a lot of ground work to do, but that was okay with Stella. It meant she'd be around for awhile longer, and she could stay with Tom through some of the worst parts of his recovery, which she knew were yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this chapter came from an autobiographical place for me inasmuch as dealing with the aftermath of a pretty severe panic attack. I had a beginning for this chapter written prior to April, and then April happened, and I had to take medical leave from work, and then something similar happened in August, and I had to resign my previous job because it just wasn't healthy for me to go back to it. I scrapped what I had, and started over today, and this is what came out. I hope it reads believably. My goal is to get this story finished this year. Thank you all so much in advance for reading and commenting and leaving your kudos! It means so much to me!


End file.
